Le Moulin Rouge
by TrueBlood Twilight
Summary: A young woman follows her undisclosed desires to become a dancer/actress and finds herself among the chaos of Le Moulin Rouge. Befriended by a painter, hated by a writer, Bella must forge her own path and find what it is that she seeks.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: Thank you to my Beta, Evenflo78. **

**~o~**

**Paris, France 1899**

High atop _butte Montmartre, _numerous artists lived cheaply among the marginal buildings, steep pathways, _bals populaires _and singing cafes.

Many women would meet their loves on Sundays and patron Le Moulin De La Galette or L'Elysèe-Montmartre, while other young aspiring actresses would dance the cancan at the Le Moulin Rouge.

Bella thought of these women, as she sat impatiently within the horse drawn carriage, the smell of the evening and its festivities wafting through the Parisian air. "Monsieur! Monsieur!" She yelled out, as she waved her hand towards the black gates. The coachman pulled up on his reins, as he nodded a show of his understanding.

Easing steadily onto avenue Frochot, the coachman rang for the concierge to open the gates. Within moments they began to move once again, painstakingly slow as the carriage noisily crept over the aged cobblestone slope to the house at the very end, number 15.

Bella marveled at her new abode. "Oh, dear god. It is marvelous," she whispered to herself.

Bella had thought of this day, the day where she would follow her dream of dancing at the infamous Le Moulin Rouge. Funny, for such a young girl to desire such a trade, but Bella knew better. Born of a beauty that easily rivaled her mother, she was nothing short of magnificent.

Though some would say that beauty is a blessing, for the young Parisian-beauty had been her curse. Long after her father Charles had passed away, Bella's mother would entertain; her small apartment always consumed by countless men.

Bella had learned to tolerate these rendezvous, but not without interest from every suitor who came to visit her mother. _Bella, you are so beautiful. You could be an a__ctress. You must not waste your valuable gift. _Each time, their words meant to encourage, their eyes deceitful and sinful.

For the young girl, it was a sign. Longing to free herself from the confides of her eccentric mother, she found herself desperate for a means to escape. And in her secret dreams, the answer lay in her allure. She would become an actress, a dancer, or maybe even both. She would captivate audiences with her glamour and she would find a rich suitor that would yearn for her heart. She would give that man a trophy, her body for his pleasures, and in turn, she would be financially secure. In her mind, it all made sense.

"Madame, you only have one suitcase?" The concierge asked.

"My arrangement need not concern you. Might you point me in the direction to my apartment and hand me my keys?" Bella stated with authority. For she knew with any man, that a young woman with little possession, might be construed as a young woman eager to earn quick money.

"Yes, yes. This way," replied the concierge but not without a quick glance of the beauty that stood before him.

There in front of Bella, was a large home that had been converted to a few apartments-three to be exact, with the concierge living in the fourth smaller room at the end of the hallway on the second floor. Two keys were handed to Bella-one for the first door that opened the grand manor, and the second, a key to her small room. Bella held onto those keys tight, for they were more than merely objects of old iron. They were symbolic of her freedom from her drunken mother-or as Bella liked to describe her youth, _Renée règne de la terreur_, Renee's reign of terror.

The concierge placed Bella's worn and torn baggage near the door to her new home. He gave a quick bow and repeatedly informed her that he was available at all hours of the night, should she be in need of assistance-or in his mind, _company_.

Bella smiled half-heartedly and then turned her back on the concierge. She was no fool to such behavior and quickly put the concierge and his rude behavior out of her mind. She did not want anyone to spoil such an occasion.

Upon opening the door, Bella whispered, _la révolution a commencé._

As a child, she would pretend that she was a commoner and subjected to the ridiculous whims of a tyrannical Queen. It was this fantasy that helped her cope with her mother's mood swings and often violent episodes, when a relationship that her mother had counted on, quickly dissolved to nothing. These escapades would often leave them penniless and poor at times, but only to have Renee find a new suitor, and once again indulge in splurges and extravagant shopping trips.

She often wondered if Renee would have ever sold her for a simple hat in a window.

When she opened her bag to remove the few dresses that she owned, there came a knock upon her door.

Startled by the noise, Bella thought of the concierge and what she would say to make him go away.

Without even asking who it was, she opened the door to reveal a small and disproportionate man.

"Bonjour! May I offer you a housewarming drink?" The man said with a strong lisp.

_Oh dear_, thought Bella. _Where did this strange man come from?_

"I'm sorry, but do I know you? Do you live in the room next door?" she asked.

"Oh heavens no, I live in the room below. It is my studio as well. Come, let me in. I bring gifts of green glory, plus, I am in pain from walking the steps up here. The least you could do is entertain me."

How repulsive, Bella thought. Here was this dwarf of some sort, carrying a bottle of some spirit and he was literally demanding to be let in. Yet, the more she stared at the man, the more she saw innocence in his large brown eyes. Or was it despair? Bella decided that she would like to know this man and invited him in.

"I'm sorry. I just moved in. I do not even know what is in the apartment. I may not have proper glasses." Bella said embarrassingly.

"Proper glasses? This is Paris, my love!" yelled the man, and out from his coat pockets he pulled two small shot glasses. "We drink!"

The two sat at a very old table, each side adorned with a different style of chair and again Bella found herself apologetic. "I'm sorry. We have not been formally introduced, I am Bella," she said while extending her hand.

"And I, Henri," the man said, as he took Bella's hand and placed a kiss upon the top. In one split second, he became mesmerized by the soft veins under her skin but quickly let go of her hand as not to be too inappropriate.

The man poured two glasses full, while Bella's eyes grew wide. She had never consumed alcohol before and became concerned, as thoughts of her mother began to surface.

Henri sensing Bella's apprehension remained still. "Do you not like Absinthe?"

"No, it's not that. I just... it reminds me of my mother."

"Ah," Henri sighed. "Mothers, they are a necessary evil, are they not?" he said aloud.

Born of an aristocratic family, Henri was quiet familiar with the reprimands of an over bearing mother. In fact, she was so prim and proper that she refused to visit him simply because of the areas notorious patrons. This would cause Henri, with his difficulties in walking, to have to come to her in order to see the family. He often despised her for this, for she took no pity in his predicament.

"Oh Henri, I am sure that your mother is nothing like my mother. Maybe one day I will tell you about her." Bella said softly and then without any further hesitation, she threw back the drink but quickly soured at the taste.

A moment of silence seemed to pass between the two, before Henri offered up his reply.

"But I suffer just the same Bella, just the same." Henri retaliated, his brown eyes searching while he looked at his shot glass. With a quick tip, he too finished his drink. "Another!" he yelled, pouring the herbal elixir once more to the rim of each glass.

Slowly, but surely, the two within minutes had consumed three shots each. For Henri, this was a mere teaser of his adventures to come. For Bella, a full plate of what it was to be inebriated. Allowing the effects of the green glory to consume her, Bella asked for a fourth shot. Amazed at her tenacity, Henri obliged her request.

"So what brings a beautiful girl like you to such an area?"

"Le Moulin Rouge." Bella quickly spoke up. "And freedom."

Henri nodded, understanding the latter of her response, for he too sought asylum in the _Montmartre quarter_ from a family that could never understand why he wanted to be a painter.

"I patron Le Moulin Rouge quite often-I am an artist and find pleasure in sketching the dancers. Would you like to come with me tonight? I could introduce you to the bar owner."

Bella's eyes were glassy and her vision blurred, but she stood up and threw her arms around Henri, thanking him profusely for the invitation. "You have just made me the happiest girl!"

Henri accepted Bella as she fell across the table, landing firmly upon him, while trying to hug him. He could not help but feel sorry for her. In his mind, his thoughts of the lonely women that worked the bars began to appear and he did not want to think of this young woman as one of them. His simple words had caused so much joy in her and yet, he felt doomed for uttering them to begin with. _What has he done,_ he thought to himself.

~o~

After rouging her cheeks and applying a deep red color to her lips, Bella locked up her new home and ran down the stairs to meet Henri at his apartment. The effects of the spirit were now fully consuming her but she felt glorious and giddy, a feeling that she had not felt in a long time.

"Heeellloo. Monsieur. I'm waaaiiting for my date!" she yelled from the other side of the wood paneled door.

Within moments, Henri opened, assaulting Bella with the strong smells of turpentine and linseed oil. She covered her nose with the back of her hand. "Oh, my heavens. You are a painter. Your studio is horrid."

Henri laughed as he reached for his cane. "Well Bella, maybe one day you will allow me to paint you in this horrid apartment."

Bella, feeling no pain, quickly put both her hands on her hips and scowled at her new friend. "Henri! You just want to see me nude!"

Henri began coughing now, as his laugh became more problematic. "Oh, Bella. Your are full of life. Come, let's go! Off to Le Moulin Rouge!" he said, as he pointed his cane in the direction of the gates.

With the assistance of gravity, the two stumbled forward and made good time down the driveway. Once they were out of the gate, Bella stopped to smell the air.

"Henri, can you smell that? It's all around us."

Henri did not know what it was that Bella smelled, but he did catch a whiff of urine near one of the exterior bushes.

The two joined arm and arm began strolling towards their destination. As they passed each business or bar, Henri would give Bella the whole background on the building. He even thought to include any gossip that he had heard and this pleased Bella, as she loved to hear the wild tales of a city full of aspiration.

When they came upon Moulin's entrance, Bella became nervous as she peered at the large red windmill atop of its structure-a half crescent moon adorning the windmill. "Wait!" she yelled. "What if they don't like me? What if they don't need me?"

Henri looked up at Bella, and with the only words he could think of, gave his honest opinion. "How could anyone not adore you? They would be a fool to let you slip by. Come, tonight you are a patron and my guest. But pace yourself my dear, there are many people I want you to meet." And with that, he grabbed Bella's left hand and coaxed her through the front doors.

Bella glanced up at the fascia while being pulled by Henri, "it's beautiful," she whispered.

Once inside, she took in the aromas of the evening. The smell of cigarette smoke... the smell of arousal. Her head was spinning and she could not think if it was from the alcohol or the excitement but the music felt like it was getting louder in Bella's ears.

"Henri! I think I'm drunk!" she said, carefully leaning into his side.

Once again, he began to laugh and shook his head at her comment. "Not drunk enough if you notice." With the wave of his hand, a waitress came up to him and immediately handed him two tall and lean glasses filled with a pink and bubbly drink.

"Le meilleur champagne! They save it for me since I paint their advertisements," Henri said, while handing her one of the glasses.

Sipping it slowly, Bella's eyes began to close. "Mmm. That is pure heaven."

Henri became a little bewitched by her virtue. One day, he thought-her beauty would be immortalized forever on canvas.

When Bella opened her eyes, she noticed the crowd and the tables seemed to be arranged in a circular manner, all facing the wooden platform and stage towards the front. Henri began walking, and Bella timidly followed.

Off to the right side, there was an empty table. It was always reserved for Henri. The two sat down and were immediately assisted by another waitress; again the glasses of champagne were placed in front of them. Bella thought she could easily get used to this treatment but alas, she remembered that by the end of the week she would most likely be one of the women bringing people like Henri, his drink. She sighed as she began to sip her second glass of champagne.

Suddenly there was a loud yell from one of the patrons off in the distance and then as if the band was not loud enough, they began to play even harder, a tune with vitality and vigor. The women poured from the back, and the bar nearly tripled in sized in that one moment. There were yells from all corners of the building and men were being pulled to the dance floor by the dozens.

Bella began to clap her hands profusely, for she understood, it had begun.

In front of her on the stained age oak wood floors, were women with loose flowing gowns. They howled, as they swirled around their multiple partners and there seemed to be an overwhelming feel of excitement about the dance. Bella could practically taste it in her mouth and she wanted nothing more than to be on that dance floor with all the patrons.

"Let's dance Henri!" she yelled, as she stood up and began to move. Whether it was the music, or the consumption of alcohol, Bella didn't care-she allowed it to push her enthusiasm to its limits.

Henri, not one for dancing, beckoned for her to go without him. He gestured for her to leave and whistled loudly, once she did. He was both proud to be seen with her and somewhere deep inside, cautious to protect her. But she wanted this more than anything, and Henri could sense that from the moment he met her-determined and stubborn, he thought to himself. Yet, he wanted her to a part of the chaos, to feel it, to be inspired by it.

Henri cheered her on, as Bella found herself kicking and yelling upon the floor. She stayed somewhat close to his corner but through her wild moves, gravitated closer and closer towards the middle, till alas, she collided into someone's back.

Down, the drunk girl fell.

"Madame," the young man said, as he reached over to help Bella up.

Laughing, she paid no mind to the man's hand extended in front of her. Instead, she propped herself up with her two hands and jumped back on her feet, as if nothing happened.

The young man, who was flanked by two beautiful dancers, made a facial expression of surprise by her action. It was so... unladylike. And the fact that she did not even apologize for hitting him, further fueled his impression of the drunken girl.

Still, he stood waiting.

Bella, who had spun around to wave at Henri to let him know that she was okay, began to dance once more till she came around and noticed the young man standing by her with an insincere look upon his face.

"How rude, you are ruining the effects of the champagne. How did my mother's boyfriends put it? You are dulling the high," Bella said, as she leaned into the young man.

Completely taken by her words, he grabbed her by the arm and marched her over towards Henri's table. "Henri, your guest needs to sleep. I'm afraid she's had too much. Take her home," he ordered.

"Never," Bella said, as she finally pulled her arm out of his grips. Then turning towards the young man, she slapped him with all her might.

Henri cringed at the sound of her palm, hitting Mr. Cullen's cheek. Standing, he apologized to him on her behalf.

"But I'm not sorry!" she yelled.

"Bella, this is Edward Cullen. A very... successful... writer. He is spending the year here in Paris and will be writing several plays for the Moulin to put on." There was a hint of plea, within Henri's voice and Bella, being very astute, understood what he was trying to say to her.

With her head down, she took her seat. She did not want to say she was sorry, but she did not want to slap Mr. Cullen again in her state of being.

Not quite satisfied with the situation, Edward walked over to Bella and crouched down near her knees. "And you are?" he asked, while lifting her chin up with his hand.

"An acquaintance to you," Bella said, as she looked Edward directly in his eyes. There was something about him that made Bella's blood boil. Maybe it was his forwardness, or maybe it was that he refused to allow Bella to get away with her bad temper, but either way, she found herself disliking him.

But Edward did not move and would not, until he she answered. For Edward, there was something irritating with this petulant woman. On the outside, she was strikingly beautiful, Edward thought. But on the inside, he found her foul-mouthed and cantankerous.

Bella did not turn away and lost herself deep in his aqua blue eyes, and there the two remained-locked in a deadly stare down of sorts. Henri, completely appalled by this display of behavior, began coughing as a means to interrupt the two. But it did not work.

Until finally Bella stood up and pushed past Edward, almost knocking the young man back on to his bottom.

"Come on Henri, introduce me to the bar owner. We'll leave Mr. Cullen to sit and brood at our table," Bella said, placing emphasis on the word brood by gesturing her hands as if she was a witch.

Edward, in no mood for her continual rudeness, rose to meet Bella's glare. "So you want to meet the bar owner? Why? So you can dance here? I'll see to it that you don't get hired." And with that he turned and walked back into the crowd of patrons on the floor.

It took everything in Bella, to literally not stomp her feet in anger. She wanted to strike at someone but instead clinched her fist. She was livid that such a man could sum up her integrity by a few mischievous moves. He didn't know what she had to suffer through as a child. He didn't understand her motives to be here. The only thing that Bella could do was turn and run for the entrance, the tears springing from her eyes.

"How dare he," she muttered as she ran past the crowd. And out the front door, she stood drenched in misery. She never wanted to let a man push her around, as they did so often to her mother. She promised herself she would always stand up for herself, yet in this world, she knew she would always succumb.

Defeated, she began to walk-aimlessly and recklessly. She cursed at anyone that glanced her way and kicked at the trash that lay upon the dirty sidewalk, until she reached a corner.

There, she stood in a haze. She looked all around her and withdrew to her inner child. "Which way to go? Which way to go? If I walk up hill, it may lead me to an enchanted castle. If I go back downhill, I'll be right back at the cave where the dragon lays," she mumbled. Staring in the direction of her home, she chose the enchanted castle, until... she heard someone calling her name.

Turning, she gasped.

Coming up to meet her was the dragon himself. She froze in fear, for now she did not have the protection of Henri at her side. What if he yells at her? She began to weigh out her options.

The memory of a night that her mother had slapped her then-ill tempered boyfriend came rushing forth.

Bella began to get scared and was just about to run, when she was once again within the grips of Edward's hands.

Bella thought to herself, _the dragon will sear me-I am doomed._

_~o~_

**_Author's Notes: Please forgive me, if anything is amiss. I do not mean to be historically accurate but I do know what it's like to be drunk... So! We drink! I mean, please leave me a comment. I would love to you know what you think about it so far._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Credits: A glass of champagne for my beta, Evenflo78. She is the best. A shot of Absinthe for the husband, for giving his input on Edward. **

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Twilight. **

**Author's Notes: The inspiration for Henri, is of course one of my favorite artists-Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901). I have several of his pieces on my bedroom wall. Fact: He was not as short, as you might have presumed. Though his legs stopped growing at, I belive the age of 13, he still stood nearly five feet tall.**

**~o~**

_Bella began to get scared and was just about to run, when she was once again within the grips of Edward's hands._

_Bella thought to herself, the dragon will sear me-I am doomed._

As she turned her gaze to meet Edward's eyes, her body became rigid from fear and her mouth parted because she was about to scream. Edward used his left hand to pull in her lower waist and with his right hand firmly around her arm; he slid up to entangle her curled locks and kissed her, firmly.

The kiss was neither romantic, nor subtle. It was heated and filled with hate. Mostly Bella's and only lasted a few seconds. When Edward pulled away, his grip had eased and allowed Bella to step back. Bella meant to strike Edward once again and raised her hand to slap him. _Who does he think he is_, she thought to herself.

Edward knew his kiss would not go over well, and had anticipated her slap. He caught her wrist in mid-air. "Relax. I only kissed you to keep you from screaming."

Frustrated, Bella ripped her hand from his. "So what? You mean to tell me how you will banish me from... Paris? Oh no. Maybe my whole country. Is that it?"

Edward stood and let her rant. He wanted to tell her something offensive but he bit his lip, deciding to choose his words wisely. "Bella. I came to apologize. Henri said that you were special to him and asked if I would run after you. I am very good friends with him, and did as he asked."

"What else did he tell you about me?"

"How long do you think you were gone?" Edward said smugly. He always considered himself a bit of a womanizer but an abusive person, never. Bella was testing his patience and he thought to himself, _if only I could shake sense into her_. The notion made him smile.

"What's so funny? That you made me cry and look like a fool?" Bella continued. She stood there dumbfounded that after all this, Edward would stand there with some ridiculous look on his face, happy that he ruined her evening.

Sighing, Edward ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. "Bella. Just shut your mouth for one moment and listen. I am sorry that I hurt your feelings. I don't know anything else about you, but if you come back to Moulin, I would love to buy you a drink and get to know you. Promise. I will be on my best behavior. But... I have to ask the same of you. After all, if you are going to be working at the club, you can't very well go and slap people that happen to be in your way."

Bella looked down, and let a smile slip from her lips. At the very least, she was able to get him once. "Fine. But stop grabbing my arms. I have a thing about men touching me that way. "

"Deal." Edward said turning sideways, allowing Bella to go first. For a moment she hesitated, but then slowly moved beside him. Without thinking, Edward placed his right hand gently upon her lower back. Though Bella would never admit it, the light touch of his hand began to awaken parts of her that she did not want to deal with at this moment- at least not with him.

As they came back to the entrance, Bella paused once again. This whole venture was starting to rattle her nerves. In the beginning, she was so brave and adventurous, but standing before its doors, she became timid and weak. If Edward had not been there beside her, she would have turned and gone back home; to which home, she still did not know.

Edward nudged her forward, through the doors once more; Bella fell into the world of crimson colored nightlight. Before they could go any further, Edward asked Bella to wait. She watched as he disappeared into a sea of black suits. It was then that she was able to get a good look at the patrons of the bar. Some were older gentleman, dressed finely in dapper attire and some young, their clothing less constrictive and less formal. The crowd to say the least was eclectic. Bella liked this very much.

While staring at one particularly older man, Edward appeared, parting the crowd as if they were a school of fish and he, a shark. Without hesitation, people seemed to shift as he came through. Bella had a lopsided half grin. In Edward's hands, were two empty glasses and a bottle of champagne.

"Truth serum. Shall we?" Edward said, while motioning in Henri's direction.

For some reason that scared Bella. If that was true about alcohol, she would have to learn to control herself or not consume it at all.

When the two reached Henri's table, he did not seem to notice them as he was being occupied with three can-can dancers. The smaller one was sitting on his lap, awkwardly Bella thought. The other two were draped over each shoulder. They were discussing art and begging for Henri to paint them. Bella took an empty seat across from them and Edward pulled a chair from a nearby table. The arrangement was intimate.

Henri looked over and pulled his hands out from each girl's leg. "Ah, there's my Bella. He convinced you to return. Never mind Edward, he's not what you think he is."

Bella responded, "An asshole?"

Edward was placing the two glasses in front of him so he could pour the champagne without spilling but heard Bella's comment. Leaning towards her, he whispered, "Pace yourself. You're a mean drunk. Besides, you should save your best for last with me. Why give me all of you so quickly?"

This time, instead of being offended, Bella cackled. "I'll remember that the next time I decide to slap you."

Edward, with a mouthful of expensive drink in his mouth, nearly spewed onto his shirt. He did not respond, but instead looked over at Bella. Without even being offered the full glass, she had already reached for her drink and had started to sip it.

Edward's face began to tighten and contort, but not from anger. It was fascination. Everything about her repulsed him but dazzled him as well.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention to his good friend Henri and smiled at the adoration that he was being shown. "So Henri, which of these lovely ladies will you paint tonight?" Edward asked.

Bella assessed all three women and decided to speak up and offer her choice. "That one!" she said, as she pointed to the lovely dancer on Henri's right. The woman had long auburn hair and a Romanesque nose with large hazel eyes. Bella thought her features would translate beautifully to canvas.

The young woman sheepishly turned away as the other two women spoke indignantly. Bella shrugged her shoulders at the rise of their voices and picked up her glass. Tipping it back, she guzzled its entirety. Keeping his attention on Henri, Edward reached for the bottle and automatically filled Bella's empty glass.

"If Bella thinks that you will be a good model, then I ask you humbly. Will you Marie, allow me to paint your portrait?" Henri said, as he lightly picked up the young woman's wrist. Marie took her hand out of Henri's and used it to cover her laugh. She nodded _yes_ to Henri's request and feeling flattered, the young woman then leaned over and gave Henri a quick kiss on the cheek.

For some reason this made Bella nervous. She watched the young woman continue to tease Henri, but knew in her heart that this woman was not really interested in a deformed man that stood shy of Bella's shoulders. Still, she understood it was not her business and slid her body without thought, towards Edward.

"So, you are a writer? What type of pieces do you write?" Bella said. Even though she did not really enjoy the company of Edward, she found him to be an anomaly from French men-arrogant just the same, but forthright nonetheless. At the very least, she would attempt to be respectful to him.

Edward, who was as entranced by Henri's actions as Bella, put his glass down and looked over at her. He watched her lips closely and how they struggled with the word, _writer-_twice to be exact.

"I mostly edit, but I prefer to write plays. Do you know who Voltaire is?" Edward asked.

"I've heard his name, but I am not familiar with his work." The fact of the matter was, Bella's head was beginning to spin uncontrollably and anything that required thought was incomprehensible.

Suddenly, she pushed her glass forward, her head dropped, hitting the table in front of her.

"Madame!" cried Henri.

Without hesitation, Edward picked up Bella, who was on the verge of passing out, and cradled her in his arms. Henri stood up and thanked Edward for his kindness, but he was embarrassed by what he would have to ask of Edward next.

Edward did not need to be told, he acted on instinct. Nodding a gesture of understanding towards Henri, he began to walk away. Henri, then yelled to Edward, "But you do not know where she lives, Edward."

There was no response. Henri dismissed himself from Marie and stood near the front of his table. He felt horrible for allowing his guest, his neighbor, the innocent Bella, to be devoured in one night by their affairs.

As he let out a sigh, assuring himself that Edward would not dare do anything to harm her. Though Edward did have quite the reputation with ladies, he trusted that in Bella's compromised condition, he would not take advantage of her.

Turning around, he beckoned for Marie to stand. "Would you like come back to my place tonight? We can start on your portrait."

Marie smiled, as she stood and reached for Henri's cane while locking arms with him. The other two sauntered off lost in the depth of the unknown. Though Henri would occupy his thought with the beautiful Marie, his heart wished that he was man enough to have been able to carry Bella back to her bed. While they slowly walked away, he found himself unable to return a smile towards Marie.

"Marie, do you think that we could sit back down for one moment? I just need to collect myself." Henri asked. Without hesitation, Marie pulled a nearby chair out for Henri.

Edward, now heading to his apartment, made his way out the back entrance. At that moment, Bella began to stir, "Where are... we... going?"

"My home." Edward said abruptly. Of all people that he could possibly bring back to his apartment tonight, he thought to himself, _why her_. Yet, he could not fathom leaving her head down on some table passed out and he knew that Henri would have had difficulties helping her home, so he intervened.

"Where... is... your home?" Bella asked petulantly.

"I'm only across the road. You should probably be quiet and not speak anymore," Edward said with a hint of rudeness.

"Can you put me down?"

Edward did as she commanded and therein lies his mistake. Even though Bella was ravaged by drunkenness, she still had ears to detect impoliteness in Edwards tone.

She stood in front of him and began gently swaying back and forth. She said nothing, nor did she remove her gaze from a black stone that she focused on near Edwards's foot.

Edward wanted to laugh at Bella, but he knew that would earn a slap.

Finally, Bella peered up into Edward's eyes.

She grabbed his chin with her right hand and squeezed. "You have the most... beautiful blue eyes. But...Vous êtes laid," she finished. And with that she touched the end of his nose, as if she was scolding a child.

Edward, amazed at Bella's behavior, could not help saying what would upset her most. "Yes, you may think I'm ugly, but you want me to kiss you. Don't you?"

Then he leaned in, puckering his lips. Bella not wanting to be teased at this moment by Edward, felt something vicious and vile seize control of her body... and then it happened.

Bella retched onto Edwards face.

"Oh, dear Mary, mother of Jesus... " she said, as she bent over once again from her illness. This time, she was able to rush towards a small bush.

Edward became infuriated but there was nothing he could do. He slipped his jacket off and unbuttoned his shirt, using it to wipe his face. Unfortunately for him, the smell of bile was making him feel nauseous. Still, he held himself together to help Bella.

Walking to her, he pulled her hair back and held it off her. Since Bella did not eat, the liquid already dispensed was replaced by savage dry heaves. For one moment, Edward thought he heard Bella cry.

When her body began to still, he let go of her hair and walked back to pick up his coat. He looked down at his soiled shirt, and quickly shoved it into the street. His anger was difficult to quell but he reminded himself, that Bella could not help it.

Holding her lightly by the arm, he asked her to walk the remaining steps. Bella's head teetered back and forth upon her neck, her body moved by the guidance of Edward. Within moments, they came upon a black wrought iron gate, tucked between two commercial buildings.

Edward propped Bella against the wall to the coffee house he lived next door to and unlocked the barrier. From there, he assisted her inside, and closed the gate gently.

Ahead, were two flights of stairs and Edward begun to contemplate. It would be easier for him to carry her up.

Scooping her up, Bella did not utter a word. Once at the top, he placed her back down beside him, unlocked his front door and carried her through his entrance.

Bella, very drunk and very ill, thought it ironic that the first time she is carried through a doorway, it is by a gentleman that she did not like.

Still, she was humbled by Edward taking care of her and thankful that he did not yell at her, for vomiting on him.

Bella looked around the small apartment and found his bed, near the french doors that overlooked the boulevard. She looked back at Edward and he nodded and gestured for her to go and lay down. She immediately began to walk towards the bed and fell upon it without removing any article of clothing.

Edward watched her walk with a severe sway and fall like a boulder onto his mattress. He sighed as he threw his jacket on top of a chair and headed straight for his bathroom. He was in desperate need of a shower.

~o~

Bella woke in the middle of the night, her stomach clenched and churning. She fidgeted and turned to try and recognize her surroundings. There in the luminous glass paneled doors, streamed a soft ray of moonlight-Le Moulin in the distance. Next to her, she could just make out the body of Edward, flat on his back-his body toned and barely covered by under garments and... black socks. Bella smiled but again her stomach began to rumble and she decided to once again, succumb to slumber.

~o~

Edward, in a light alcoholic state, awoke to the delicate rambling of a young woman's pleas. He sat up slowly and noticed Bella beside him, tossing and turning in her sleep. She was mumbling something but what Edward could not make out. He leaned in lightly and heard her whine, "Please... please... don't." Her words had a haunting effect on him and Edward thought, whoever-whatever had caused Bella to cry in despair once, certainly was still deep in her psyche. He gently stroked her back and this seemed to calm Bella. Her moans subsided and Edward pulled the quilted blanket that had fallen, up and over her shoulders. He rolled on to his back and began to contemplate her-he wanted to know who it was that hurt her, that caused her to act the way she did. Not being able to fall back asleep, he walked over to his trusted typewriter but sat blank.

~o~

Bella was the first to wake in the morning and gripped her head in pain. She began to moan from the migraine that seemed to wrap around her head, ending in her left eyebrow.

"I know a good remedy for that," Edward said teasingly. Awake, he turned sideways and propped his head up with his left hand.

Bella continued to moan in misery, as the sunlight assaulted her through the sheer panels attached to the open balcony doors. She thought just hours before everything appeared radiant and elegant in its manner; exposed, it was worn and the paint around its molding was peeling. The light that streamed through felt harsh.

"How much did you drink before you showed up?" Edward asked. There was a definite manner to his voice.

"Edward, please. Quoting you-just shut your mouth for one moment." Bella said she was in tremendous pain, and her mouth tasted of acid.

Allowing her a moment, Edward got up and walked over to his desk. Sitting on top near his notes, was a small brown bottle of Laudanum. Grabbing it he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a spoon.

"Are you able to sit up?" Edward asked politely.

Bella had covered her eyes with her arm and lifted it to see Edward sitting next to her on the bed. She sat up while opening her mouth. Edward then fed her a spoonful. "You should feel better soon."

Bella covered her face with her hands. She wondered how she had gotten so drunk but remembered the Absinthe. She would make a note to drink that in moderation.

"I better walk home. I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you. I am thankful for your hospitality."

Edward looked at her in amazement. She was thanking him and then leaving on her own accord, in the morning, like... he couldn't put his thoughts to words. Her actions always seemed so... cold to Edward.

"May I walk you home?"

"No, but I appreciate the offer. I think it would be best for me to gather my wits on my own and walk by myself."

Edward began to sympathize with her. At the very least, he could appreciate that. He had on many occasions, walked home in the morning reveling in the time to himself.

"Will you be at Moulin tonight?" Edward asked. For some reason, he wanted to see her again.

"I... I guess I should. I mean, if I am to take a job then I should make an effort to meet the owner."

"Yes and I promise to speak to him on your behalf. I'll be meeting with him shortly."

Their conversation had been short and so formal that the two did not have an understanding of their relationship. They did not really enjoy each other's company, but regardless, both had experienced a most unusual night.

Bella slowly rolled off the bed, feeling the effect of medicine working. She was starting to feel better. As she got to his front door, she turned to face him. "Thank you Edward."

Edward smiled but the image of Bella tossing in torment while asleep crept in his mind. Without a reason, he lifted his hand and brushed Bella's hair away from her face. Bella froze from his touch.

"I'll see you tonight." It was not a question but a request. Edward had made a decision. He wanted to know her. Why, he was still not sure.

Without a word, Bella turned and exited out the door. Her hair messy and strewn across her back, softly moved with the breeze that filled the stairwell. Edward closed his front door and immediately walked over to his desk. He found inspiration in the most unexpected places. He began to type.

**_The Girl Who Feared Everything and Nothing_**

**_~o~_**

**Author's Notes: You can visit themishapsofascribe(dot)blogspot(dot)com to see a photo of Moulin in 1912. With each update, I will upload photos that are relevant to the blog. **

**Laudanum was an alcoholic/herbal concoction that had a small percentage of opium in it. It was a sort of cure all (obviously with the opium laced in it). **


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: As always, I would like to thank my husband for being my reader and my beta, Evenflo78. Shots for you both! **

Bella slowly descended the stairs, she felt at a loss for words. Emotions began to stir and her face heated as she reflected on the embarrassment of her evening. Yet, she was thankful that Edward had put aside his difference to care for her in her time of need.

She turned left beginning the stroll to her apartment allowing the chill of the air to cool her exposed arms, her breath visible in the early autumn morning.

By the time she had reached the gates to the manor, Bella was feeling the effects of the medicine and her drugged body begged for sleep.

Up the cobblestone driveway she could smell the aroma of the icy pink roses that lined the pathway. At the very top, she stopped and picked one for her own pleasure. Placing it near her nose, she inhaled its scent, savoring it.

"Bella! You made it home!"

Startled, Bella dropped the rose and began to look around. From the left side of the manor Henri sat holding a small porcelain cup.

"And why would I not be?" Bella retorted with a hint of displeasure in her voice.

As she approached Henri, she noticed him sitting peaceable, his attire fresh and pressed.

Henri stood, leaving his small cup of coffee on the white rod iron table and walked a few steps to greet Bella. The two came nearly a few feet of one another and then on cue, proclaimed their apologies for each person's behavior the previous night. Again in sync, the two smiled and laughed at the evening's events.

Bella begged Henri to sit with her, but he insisted on bringing her coffee. She desperately wanted to explain the chain of events that had left her so perplexed, but he had other concerns at the moment. Looking over at the ridge of bumps on her forearm, Henri being a gentleman sought to retrieve something warm to cover her with.

As he disappeared around the building, Bella stared into the garden noticing its beauty in the daylight. She sat at very small white table with two seats on opposite sides. Beyond the table brick pathways lined the vibrant green boxwood hedges. But what drew Bella to enter the garden were the large twig arches over each pathway, flowering peas climbing up and over them.

Henri came from behind her and draped a quilted blanket around her shoulders. Her senses assaulted by the scent of turpentine, Bella wanted to cough but the smell had become familiar. It would always remind her of Henri and she took the blanket, wrapping it tightly around her body.

"The garden is beautiful. Does the concierge assist with it?" Bella asked.

"He does, but your neighbor whom you have not met likes to help out as well."

Bella thought about that for a moment. It is true; the room opposite of hers was occupied by someone she had not met.

"Who is my neighbor Henri?"

"She runs a small coffee shop near Moulin. Lovely girl. She inherited it from her mother, you know. Such a shame," Henri whispered, as he looked down at a large snail making its way across the brick.

Bella understood there was more to her neighbor than merely a girl who ran her own business. Yet, she did not ask anything more of her, for Bella knew everyone had their dark secrets and only time would tell if she would ever get to know the young woman who lived in 15C.

Turning, Henri sighed as he walked back to the small table. Bella followed and noticed that Henri had placed a small cup of coffee on her end, beside it an ivory plate of cookies.

"It's not much, but I imagine your stomach is empty."

"Henri, it is more than enough. In fact, it's perfect. I need something to absorb the medicine. I am a bit sleepy but wish to sit with you a bit. Do you mind?"

"Not at all my dear. Sit... sit... tell me what is on your mind. Is it Edward? Did he...," Henri's voice trailed off, concerned for what might have happened.

"Oh no! It is not that at all! Edward took care of me and escorted me to his apartment. But... on the way, I do believe I got sick... on his face."

Henri was in mid-sip when he stopped and put his cup down. "No! Bella, you didn't? What did he do?" Henri was now fully alert and eager to hear Bella's reply.

Shyly, Bella responded. "Nothing. I mean, he did wipe his face. But, he did not utter a word to me. In fact, I wish to thank him later for his kindness. I would like to surprise him with a baked desert. Would you consider walking with me to see him?"

At this point, Henri was amused at what he was hearing. Edward was a very well spoken young man and very opinionated. If he did not like something, the world would hear why. Edward considered himself to be a romanticist, his writings inspired by the spirit and the concept of love.

Ironically, Edward had confessed to Henri one drunken night that he had never experienced love himself; he did not know how he had come to be so passionate about something so foreign to him.

This was the conflicted Edward that Henri had come to admire. Edward was in love with the idea of love, yet he was unwilling to yield. Henri's eyes gleamed as he pictured Edward being soiled with bile on his face. He wondered if Bella might be the one. Then looking up at her, the blanket wrapped snugly around her petite body, he peered into her brown eyes. They were staring off at the tulips. _Silly me, she is too good for Edward, _Henri thought.

~o~

The manor consisted of four apartments; each room had been remodeled five years prior, a small kitchenette and half bath added to the top two units. To fully shower, both units would have to share the full bath at the end of the hall. Only the concierge and Henri's apartment had full amenities.

Bella had heard about the residence from her mother's friend, a close acquaintance to the owner's of the home, Marie and Antoine Girard. She would be forever in debt to the woman who took pity on her.

As Bella crawled into bed she thought about her mother. Renee had died of consumption only six months ago and Bella, unwilling to live in the cottage that she grew up in, sold it to her mother's friend Sue. In Bella's heart, she believed Sue overpaid for the home assuring her a substantial amount of money to move, though Sue would never confess this.

Able to care for herself, Bella set her sights on Paris. To start her life anew. To leave behind the country and its simple ways.

With heavy eyes, she fell into a deep sleep, the quilt that smelled of turpentine, still wrapped firmly around her body.

~o~

Bella's eyes adjusted as she woke to a light tapping on her front door. Reaching for the pocket watch that lay on the small round table near her bed, she proclaimed, "Oh my goodness!"

The hours had bled away and the afternoon sun bidding its adieus. Bella had certainly slept more than her share, and woke with such vigor she became alarmed at her unfamiliar surroundings. She sat up, her senses wakening.

Sighing, she realized that it would take time to get used to her new living quarter; the billows of dust reflected in the filter of the sunlight, the sound of the wooden floor bending and stretching beneath her feet, the aromas of floral spring bulbs mixed with linseed oil. Spying a small cobweb near the far right corner, she eased herself out of bed and walked over to it. Leaning down to the small spider, she whispered, "Bonjour little spider." The soft rapping started again.

Standing, she placed her ear lightly upon the aged wood door. "Who's there?"

Silence ensued.

Not amused, she called out once again. "Excusez moi, who's there?"

A high pitch voice called back, "Mon nom est Alice. I am your neighbor."

Bella opened the door immediately, brushing her frayed hairs away from her face. "Oh, it is so nice to meet you. I'm sorry for my rudeness, won't you come in." Bella said, as she cocked slightly to the right, allowing the young woman to pass.

Alice entered cautiously as she stepped across the creaking entrance. Looking around as if she was inspecting the premises for cleanliness, she lifted her chin suspiciously.

Bella was very perceptive and picked up on Alice's unusual behavior. She did not like the way the young woman peered at her apartment, as if Bella who had just moved in yesterday, should have cleaned, painted and lavished her abode with extravagant pieces. Yet, she did not want to dislike her neighbor, for each woman's world was only a few feet apart from the other.

Bella decided to bite her tongue and allow Alice to speak and disclose her concerns.

"I wanted to introduce myself and invite you to come and socialize at my shop this evening. I will be closing early allowing a select few to hear the writings of a very talented and witty writer. He would like to read a few excerpts from a play that he is writing. Would you like to come?"

At the mention of a writer, Bella's heart began to flutter. Her thoughts consumed with another.

"You own a coffee shop near Moulin? Does a Mr. Cullen live above you?"

Alice's eyes widened at the mention of Mr. Cullen

Again Bella took notice of Alice's peculiar response.

"My apologies. Yes, I will stop by for a moment but I do have to meet with the owner of Moulin tonight."

Alice grinned and thanked Bella for her time. As she escorted herself to the door, she turned slightly; a look of apprehension overcame her. "I'm sorry. I did not catch your name."

"Oh, where are my manners. My name is Bella Cygne. Forgive me?"

Alice opened the door. "Bella, are you a friend of Mr. Cullen?"

Bella did not know what to say. Something struck her as odd about the direction of Alice's inquisition. Yet, Bella dismissed it understanding that there seemed an overall abnormality about everything that Alice did. Remembering the previous evening, she said with pride.

"Yes, I am."

Alice nodded while leaving.

~o~

After Alice's departure, Bella began the daunting task of freshening herself up. She laid out a black evening gown, one of only two that she possessed and admired it from afar. It had been her mother's but fit Bella well, the corset creating a bend to Bella's figure and the illusion of full hips.

Putting the gown on, Bella adored the way the sleeves fell as she softly touched at her exposed neckline, her bust pushed up and swollen. The dress had complimented her mother but even as a young woman, Bella knew that it is not the dress that makes the lady, for a wolf can be found in sheep's clothing, it is the lady that makes the dress. Still Bella did not want to part with the dress-she had sold her mother's possession only retaining a few items for her own personal use.

Fetching a small satchel, Bella felt presentable for both a private reading and a second venture to Le Moulin Rouge.

Opening the door, she was startled by Henri standing with his fist in mid air. "Madame. You are stunning. I was just about to call for you. I have a carriage waiting."

"Oh Henri, thank you so much. You are too kind... you are sure that you do not mind accompanying me to Alice's private reading? Certainly when we are able to, we can see ourselves to Moulin. I cannot believe I was not able to see Edward beforehand. I was hoping to meet with him."

Offering his arm, Henri smiled, "How can I pass the opportunity to hear a writer speak with a beautiful woman on my arms. But of course, I will come with you. And as for Edward, I am most certain you will have no trouble finding him. Do not fret, Bella. He is not expecting anything from you that I can assure you."

As the two made their way down the stairs Bella looked over at Henri. He was deep in concentration as he slowly took each step. Bella knew it was hard for Henri to climb the steps, but she did not want to point out his disability. She simply thanked God for the delivery of a descent person in her life. If Henri had evils, she begged to never know them.

Once inside the carriage, Bella could not help her enthusiasm. "Henri, the city is so much more alive when you are not drunk."

Henri laughed. "I beg to differ my lady. Alive, she is. Robust, never. Not without Absinthe!"

Bella shook her head at Henri. "You are my... " and then she paused trying to find the right word to describe him.

Henri answered, "Devoted jester." Bella's smiled faded as she watched Henri peer out into the street. She knew that his words had hidden meaning and took them to heart while she pondered.

When they came upon the coffee shop, she noticed the name, _Le Lutin_. "The pixie? What an odd name for a shop," Bella exclaimed.

"Sadly, Alice did not name it. Her deranged mother did."

Bella quieted at Henri's words. What Bella was not privy to was the fact that Alice's mother had gone mad when she was just a child, committed to _Bicêtre Hospita _by the time she was 30.

As if she could foresee their arrival, Alice opened her glass door, signaling the two to enter. Bella found herself looking up as she walked into the small shop. Again her heart began to beat harder as she thought about Alice's tenant above.

Dismissing her emotions, she removed herself from the entrancement that she had begun to fall under.

She looked around and observed that the room had been assembled like a parlor with chairs and several couches arranged in an orderly fashion, facing the front of the store. Practically every seat was filled but Henri found an empty sofa near the rear.

They both took a seat and sat patiently for the reader.

Alice then came out offering refreshments to her attendees. Once everyone was served, she brought out her guest, much to the pleasure of everyone. There from the kitchen, came a very elderly man. He sat in a high wing back chair reserved for him near the center.

Bella leaned in; distressed that she did not recognize the man. Whispering, she asked, "Who is that?"

The man began to speak, setting up his scene. "A reading from Salomé."He coughed, clearing his throat. "_Une grande terrasse dans le palais d'Hérode donnant sur la salle de festin. Des soldats sont accoudés sur le balcon. A droite il y a un énorme escalier. A gauche, au fond, une ancienne citerne entourée d'un mur de bronze vert. Clair de lune_."

Henri leaned sideways and whispered, "Mr. Wilde."

Bella nodded as she thought how far she had come from the life that she had led not less than a year ago. Feeling blessed, she reached for Henri's hand. Without conscience, Henri lightly placed his other hand on top of Bella's and gave it a few pats. Without words, the two in a short period of time, had come to understand one another.

When Mr. Wilde was finished the attendees stood, applauding his efforts. Mr. Wilde, aged in appearance, gave a slight bow and thanked Alice for allowing him to entertain her guests with a very controversially piece of work. Mr. Wilde was nonetheless thrilled at their enthusiasm.

Henri stood and guided Bella to the door, saying his goodbyes as he passed.

Emerging into the evening, Bella felt anxious for what may lie ahead. The two began to walk towards Moulin but only a few feet, they heard the loud twang of a gate being thrown open. Turning towards the sound, Bella watched a very belligerent Edward appear.

Edward, with his shirt wrinkled and his tie hanging loosely around his neck, smiled wickedly; on his arm, a young woman-her lips smeared and hair tousled.

Henri stopped to say hello to Edward, till he perceived the awkwardness of the situation. Glancing up at Bella, her eyes were transfixed on Edward.

Henri wanted to pull Bella aside, cause her to pay no mind to Edward, but alas, it was too late. Edward and his date made their way towards the two and even with the gentle pulls of the young woman, Edward found himself drifting towards Bella as she stood planted in her stance.

Henri did not want to watch but he knew something was about to happen. It was as if the two bodies were two brightly lit stars about to collide-Boulevard de Clichy a cosmic sky awaiting calamity.

Edward came within a foot of Bella, the stench of Absinthe dominating her senses. Still she did not flinch nor move-her continual gaze, steady and disapproving. Her eyes became two slits, fueled by anger.

Their eyes met.

And then he was gone.

Edward said nothing. The young woman, who began to laugh as she leaned into his shoulder, dragged him the remainder of the distance to Moulin.

"Breath," Henri whispered.

Bella did not reply and took Henri's arm. They began to follow the drunken couple but Bella kept her steps slow and short.

Jealousy was not one of Bella's characteristics yet here and now, she felt crazed and envious of the young woman who had Edward's attention.

As Edward came upon the threshold of Moulin, he felt heated and flushed from what had just taken place. Liquored, he did not want to say the wrong thing to Bella and allowed his companion to remove him from her presence. Yet from the moment Bella left his apartment, she was all Edward could think about.

Irritated that one woman could capture him whole heartily, he set out to prove to himself that he was not about to fall for a girl that could evoke both displeasure and bewitchment.

But when he called upon Tanya, a singer at _Le Chat Noir, _he found himself unable to perform, flaccid in his attempts.

Tanya, who did not really care for Edward, simply decided to drink instead, using this opportunity to force Edward to introduce her to as many affluent men at Moulin as possible. Tanya was ambitious and cared less for Edwards's ill-attempts at sexual satisfaction, as she did for her own advancement.

Tanya's gift, she could out drink any man including Edward.

"Go on without me, there is someone I need to speak to," Edward said as he lightly pushed Tanya ahead of a couple.

"Suit yourself," Tanya replied as she disappeared beyond the doors.

Edward leaned against the building and waited for Bella, unsure of what he wanted to say. Within moments, the two arrived with Bella deciding to ignore Edward. Henri smiled and tipped his hat, "Edward, you look horrible. Shall we old friend?"

"Not right now, Henri. I'll be inside in a minute." Edward turned his attention to Bella. "How are you feeling?"

Bella tight lipped, looked off in to the distance.

Henri sighed once again and decided that this conversation was not meant for him. Leaning up to kiss Bella on both cheeks, he assured her that he would be at his table if she needed him. As Henri turned, a man came up and shook him by the shoulders. "Monsieur!" the man yelled.

"Mr. Oller!" Henri yelled back giving Bella a quick wink and pulled the owner of the bar inside to speak of Bella's employment. Henri was unsure if Bella would even make it pass the front door and decided to take matters into his own hands arranging her start date without her.

Bella did not know who the man was, but regardless, felt his importance. Turning towards Edward, she found herself annoyed. "Well, what do you want?"

Edward had just lit a cigarette when Mr. Oller arrived. Taking a puff, his eyes poured over Bella standing in her black evening gown.

His eyes followed the lace as it travelled up her slender legs, her hips, her full breasts. Edward licked his lips in response.

Intoxicated, he knew he could be brave and tell Bella his true feelings or be a coward and fight his own internal battles, taking her as prisoner.

Edward pushed himself off the concrete wall, throwing his cigarette butt to the side. What he would do next would forever change his life.

He stepped forward and aggressively put out his hands... reaching.

Bella found herself in the same situation with Edward as fear began to set in. She wanted to run... or stay and slap him. Her breathing became labored.

She would do neither.

Edward grabbed the back of her head, gripping a hand full of hair, pulling her in.

Henri had brilliant news and had come running out to tell Bella what Mr. Oller had offered her but stopped as he witnessed Edward step forward to kiss Bella.

Henri thought to himself as he turned to go back inside, _and so when two stars collide-they merely merge into one_.

Yet behind him, a fire ensued.

**Author's Notes: Mr. Oscar Wilde, an Irish poet/writer, was one of London's top playwrights in the early 1890's. He wrote **_**Salomé **_**in Paris of 1891 and both the English and the French versions were published in 1893, but not performed till 1896 in Paris. **

**Salome, ****the stepdaughter of the****tetrarch****Herod Antipas, who, to her stepfather's dismay but****mother's delight, requests the head of Jokanaan (John the Baptist) on a silver platter as a reward for dancing the Dance of the Seven Veils.**

**Translation from Mr. Wilde's opening at Alice's private gathering: **

_**A large terrace in Herod's palace overlooking the banquet room. **__**Some soldiers are leaning over the balcony.**__**On the right there is a huge staircase.**__**On the left, at bottom, an old cistern surrounded by a wall of green bronze.**__**Moonlight.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Credits: To my beta, Evenflo78 and to my reader, my husband.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight, though some may say, Twilight owns me.**

**Author's Notes: In the spirit of Twilight… Shall we start with a poem?**

_**Robert Frost-Fire and Ice**_

**Some say the world will end in fire,**

**Some say in ice.**

**From what I've tasted of desire**

**I hold with those who favour fire.**

**But if it had to perish twice,**

**I think I know enough of hate**

**To say that for destruction ice**

**Is also great**

**And would suffice.**

~o~

Edward allowed his lips to consume Bella, his conflicted emotions fueled by alcohol; he ravaged the young woman in a heated display of unwarranted affection. Having never been in love, Edward could not understand why this woman lay at the tip of his thoughts all day. So much so, that he could no longer entertain other woman. _Temporarily_, he thought.

To prove to his ego that she was merely a thing of beauty, he kissed her violently. But as Edward gripped Bella tightly, something happened.

For Edward, his desires were a flourishing fire always feeding...

But Bella, having been the product of a neglectful and scornful mother, was ice.

When Bella was a small child, her father had become ill with the flu. When he passed, he had inadvertently taken the soul of his wife with him. Bella never really knew her father, yet in her dreams the man who often came to save her from her turmoil was a young man-healthy and full of vigor-a man that Bella no doubt knew to be him. The woman that raised her, that gave her wicked verbal lashings, that allowed men to drench her with their lustful eyes, was only a shell of the woman she once was. Right up to her death, Bella's mother was cold and unloving... a heart of ice.

Resentful of Edward's firm grip, Bella felt uneasy and her body stiffened, becoming rigid. But Bella closed her eyes and the smell of his skin permeated her senses. In the past, she would have become nauseous at such an odor for many of her mother's acquaintances would leave, smelling of sex, but Edward... no the smell was different. It was primal and awakened her body, every cell, every nerve; alive with excitement.

Bella found herself perplexed as she decided to do something she would never in a million lifetimes do-she succumbed.

Relaxing, Bella parted her lips and allowed Edward to enter.

But this was not what Edward expected. Startled, he pulled back slightly, his eyes lowered and guarded.

"I'm sorry Bella. I don't know what came over me," Edward confessed while breathing heavily.

Bella pulled her arms from Edward's grip and gently placed her hands on his cheeks. "I've never been with a man." Her words were labored and intense. "But there is something about you Edward."

Biting her lip, Bella waited for him to whisk her away. But alas, her words only pierced Edward as he felt remorse for acting so indecently. _A virgin_, Edward thought to himself-he felt damned at her surrender.

Letting out a very long sigh, Edward did his best to smile, sick in the thought of his true intentions, "Bella, believe me. I want to... with you. But I can't let you do this. Not with me. I don't deserve your virtue." He leaned his head down and kissed her forehead.

Though Edward wanted to rid himself of his obsession with the young beauty by sleeping with her, he would not do so at the expense of her virtue. He would have to lust for her, from afar.

Yet...

With his rejection, Bella found herself angry. _Why is this man able to hurt me? _

"So when you grabbed at my hair and roughly pulled me, drenching me with your kisses, how did you think I would react? Where you thinking of my virtue, when you eyed me in my gown?" Upset, Bella pushed Edward back. Though their minds were miles apart, their agendas were the same.

Just then a young man in a white tuxedo, a case in his hand, came upon the two arguing. He hated displays of ill temper and decided to offer his assistance to the woman, who clearly did not want the man to be near her. Glancing at the couple, he realized it was Edward Cullen he was intruding upon. _Shit._

"_Excusez moi. _Are you alright?" He gave Bella a look of concern.

Irritated at the interruption, Edward stepped in front of Bella and turned his attention to the musician. "Mind your business kid, this doesn't concern you."

Not to be outdone, Bella stepped around Edward and gave him a disapproving look, "Please forgive his rudeness. We're fine. I was just leaving."

Bella was exhausted by the despicable display she had shown Edward-she wanted to hide within a bottle of champagne-drown her sorrow-do as the Romans do. She abruptly left the two men.

The young man nodded and watched Bella walk into the club, her gown clinging to her body in ways that made the young man turn his gaze down and blush. He felt foolish for interceding.

Edward, frustrated that he did not get to explain his actions to Bella, scowled at the young man-his eyes threatening.

"What's your name?" asked Edward, his blood boiling. "So I know who to fuck with when I'm bored." Cantankerous, he tightened his fists.

Leaning down to pick up his instrument, the young man did not say anything. As he turned, he knew that this encounter would not be profitable to his future but regardless, the woman that he had met was still reeling in his mind. He did not want to be disrespectful to Mr. Cullen but he certainly did not want to look as if he were cowardly either. Looking back, he replied, "Jacob. Jacob Black, sir."

~o~

Bella did her best to not look flustered but Edward was imprinting on her in a way that she had never let any man do. Then to freely offer herself... she shivered from the thought.

"Bella, what is wrong? You can tell me?" Henri said.

Taking slow sips from her glass, her eyebrows creased together in a deep furrow, Bella could not stand to look at her friend. "I just thought Edward..." The words evaded her. She felt foolish for thinking that Edward would want someone inexperienced.

Feeling empathy, Henri did his best to console the broken young woman. "Oh Bella, don't let any one person ever make you feel unloved or worthless. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise? After all, I have never known Edward to take interest in any woman for longer than... Let me think... was it a month with Angelique?

"Anyhow, my point is he is not worth your pain. Besides, we should be celebrating! Am I not sitting across Le Moulin Rouge's newest addition? _N'est-ce pas vrai?_ I think it is true. Why in fact, I am sitting at my usual table with the most beautiful cabaret singer to walk _le_ _montmartre_."

Bella let out a giggle as she sat across from Henri, her glass held high. "To a short career! A long life! May I be happy wife!" Bella retorted.

Amused, Henri clinked his glass in favor. Just an hour before, Bella had rushed in, desperate for his attention-but instead found him by his table, immersed in conversation. The man was Mr. Oller, the owner of the club. Intrigued by the young beauty, he asked if Bella could sing. Though she had only done so for her own personal amusement, she quietly sang a few lines on the spot. The bar owner was impressed and offered her a position-one where she would be able to perform as both a singer and a dancer. Bella was more than pleased.

Reaching for the bottle, Bella refilled both glasses and stood, extending her hand to Henri. "Come, let's walk. I want to devour every inch of my second home."

Henri did as Bella asked and escorted her around the edges of the dance floor. As Bella watched the crowd, wild and rebellious, she glanced over at Henri. "Do you think I belong here?"

"And why would you not? Do you think I belong here? Or _her_ for that matter, or that older man; a bold ring upon his left finger? Bella, no one belongs to Le Moulin Rouge-she belongs to us!"

As Bella listened to Henri, she found solace in his words. Everything he said gave magic to her surroundings. The night seemed full of possibilities and the morning, a time for reflection. She clung to his side as she laughed at a young gentleman being hit by a dancer for touching to low below her knickers.

When they neared the far left side of the establishment, Henri pointed to the darkness that lay in the corner. "Beyond there is where the dancers and musicians come out of. The dressing rooms are in the rear. I'm sure they will not mind if you visit, would you like me to continue my tour?"

"Oh Henri, I would love to sneak a peek. You don't need to come accompany though, I won't be long."

Smiling, he gave her a wink, but his attention was quickly diverted to the young woman in the background. Bella turned instinctively and noticed Maria sitting playfully upon a gentleman's lap-her arms held high above her head as she entertained her small crowd with feral stories. Bella looked back at Henri as he sighed. "You were able to paint her portrait, _n'avez-vous pas_?"

Remembering how uncomfortable Maria had become at Henri's apartment, he became embarrassed and spared Bella the details of Maria's sudden departure.

Bella leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek sensing his uneasiness, "Mon amour, never let anyone make you feel worthless." She did her best to smile.

Henri nodded but simply turned and hobbled away. Rejection was something Henri was too familiar with and regardless, he did not feel like burdening Bella with stories of regret.

Unsure of what pain Maria may have caused her beloved new friend, Bella took a mental note of the incident. _If she said anything cruel or unkind... I will torment her for eternity. _

Slipping behind the red velvet curtain that covered the mechanics of the back stage, Bella found herself in another world. Here the atmosphere was different-the energy moving as if it had a life of its own.

Bella took in a deep breath and ventured further. When she got to the hallway, she glanced down at a long narrow passageway of doors. Glancing at the walls, she noticed the oddest of things-the paint worn and peeling near the center of the doors, greased hand-prints in abnormal locations; the veil of cigarette smoke, overwhelming, casting a light cloud that seemed to dance and twist near the upper portion of the ceiling. Bella did not care. Her eyes refused to see it for what it was, and instead only envisioned beauty.

Before she could take another step, she felt his presence without even having to see him-their bodies had become magnets, attracted to each other, pulling. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he spun her around and gazed down at her with dark eyes. "I know I'm no good for you, but I don't think I can stand to be without you. What is it about you?" His voice was low, commanding, raspy.

Bella still harbored anger, her words venomous. "Stop Edward… Your teasing is relentless!"

Easing his hands up her sides, his fingers grazed her breasts as he pulled her closer, whispering in her ears. "But what if I can't stop?"

At his words, Bella's body waived its white flag-unable to defend itself any longer. "Edward, I don't have the strength to stay away from you. Please..." The end of her sentence came out in a barely audible breath.

"Stop begging, it's making it harder for me to let you go. Bella you have no idea... how much I want to rip your dress off... touch you... possess you. But how can I? I'd be a pig, knowing you've never been with anyone before."

"So does that make me less desirable?"

"Quite the contrary, I want you even more... you know that don't you?" Edward began to nip at Bella's neck, her ears... then lightly, his tongue darted out and licked the border of her jaw, up to the bottom portion of her mouth. Biting, he pulled her lip out then let it snap back as it swelled from his touch.

"You know I hate men that are arrogant." Bella said as her head fell back, her hair cascading down like dark liquid tendrils.

"I hate women that are disrespectful." Edward replied, his large slender hands, kneading her flesh to the rhythm of his desire.

"You're completely crass!" Bella brought her hands to his stomach; the urge to push him away was being fought by the need to have him on top of her.

"And you're brutal." Edward pushed his groin into the fragile body beneath him, slamming her into the wall behind her; Bella's hands fell wayside as she grasped at the sides of his trousers.

The two bodies seemed to meld into one being, their surroundings a blur.

Bella was feeling faint as Edward devoured her, his hunger swollen and begging for release.

Lifting up, his arm now resting on the wall above her head, he whispered in a low but deep voice. "I was wrong Bella. I'd kill to be... let me show you what I'm capable of. Please..."

With his arousal awakened, he knew it was because of Bella. Tanya was merely an attempt.

For Bella, Edward's words dripped from his lips like churned cream.

Slipping from underneath him, she began to walk away, her left eyebrow cocked, teasing Edward-her parted lips, suggestive. Edward followed, his face scorched by fervor, his body swollen from anticipation. As the two walked out of the club cat-like down the sidewalk, above them in the Parisian sky, a star fell; its light once bright, extinguished on its descent.

**Author's Notes: Joseph Oller built Moulin Rouge-**_**Red Mill **_**in 1889. He also owned Paris Olympia. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Credits: To my beta, Evenflo78 and to my reader, my husband.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight, though some may say, Twilight owns me.**

**Author's Notes: This is a short chapter, mainly for the fact that I wanted to keep the intimacy separate from any other issues that these group of people may have. Happy Reading! **

~o~

As if guided by a compass, Bella found herself at the foot of Edward's gate, his hands gently grazing her shoulders. "Mon amour," he whispered.

Bella had to stifle the urge not to be repelled by such a line, words that were too often used on her mother, but tonight-she would not think of anything but the heat that burned against her skin; the touch of Edward's sensual hands... the thought of losing her dignity simply for the thrill.

As Edward placed his key in the lock, Bella heard soft laughs coming from _Le Lutin _and she froze for one moment, as Alice exited. "She must have stayed behind to straighten up," Bella said, but Edward did not reply. He merely moaned, as he bent forward and nipped at Bella's ear lobe, urging her to keep moving.

But Bella stood still, and caught the quick glance of Alice; behind her, a young man with soft tousled brown hair, and his smile enthralling. The two exchanged silent words, again Bella felt the disapproving look of Alice scorch upon her as the young woman turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Sighing, Bella turned back towards the aged rod iron entrance that had been held open for her and took her first step. Edward, who had noticed the unusual chemistry between Ms. Brandonè and Bella, took a moment to think how the two would know each other. Still slightly inebriated, he discounted any suspicions. He could only hope that Ms. Brandonè would never speak of her ill-wills towards him out loud, for in his heart, he _never _meant to break hers.

As Alice walked along the Boulevard, she tried to pretend that the young American that she had just met, Mr. Whitlock had her undivided interest. In reality he did, but the tear that fell from her eye was not lost upon her either. Allowing the chill of the night to dry it, she once again enveloped herself in Jasper's voice.

~o~

Bella felt herself shake slightly as she gazed upon Edward's bed. She did not know what to do or how to do it, but knew she wanted _him_, and that was all that mattered. She would not let fear of the unknown, defeat her desire. She trusted in Edward, if only for the moment.

Edward removed his bow-tie and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off as his eyes scanned the backside of Bella's body. His tongue jetted out, wetting his bottom lip with dark expectations, yet he reminded himself to be gentle in his actions.

Unzipping Bella from behind, he assisted her out of her gown and undergarments and eased her atop his mattress, turning her over so he could drink in her naked body. Still half clothed, he crawled slowly above her thighs, which parted slightly from his weight. Bella's fingers clenched the coverlet below her. She closed her eyes in anticipation; her nipples hardening instinctively.

Edward began the slow and methodical process of kissing the area just above Bella's sex. He wanted her body to be desperate and hungry before he did anything that might cause Bella pain. She let out a small gasp, and the skin on her stomach pimpled under his lips; but still he continued to graze, his lips leaving a trail.

_Her body cried for more._

Edward took his kisses upward along her chest, and began sucking on Bella's right nipple. The sensation caused Bella's stomach muscles to harden, and her back arched slightly from the overwhelming roughness. But still Edward continued, nipping until he heard her moan; easing onto the pink flesh, it's small pimples, swelling under his lips.

_Her breaths begged him to go on. _

Switching to her other breast, he lay his kisses more gently, caressing the mound with his tongue. "Relax Bella," he instructed. Her body, subtly softened at his command and as a reward, he slid his left hand down to her virginal sex. Lightly massaging her, a pearl of hardened tissue began to protrude out. Bella moaned in response, and her hands released his bedding, wrapping tightly around his head.

_Her moans, now demanded. _

Edward lifted up, so that he could gaze down and take in the view. The auburn color of Bella's hair, the creamy color of her slender thighs-his own pleasure swelled and screamed for release.

Huskily breathing, he slipped two fingers deep inside her, spreading her while keeping a close eye on her body. Bella's hands pushed hard against Edward's head, and something that sounded like _Oh Dear God_, slipped from her lips. Her entire being had been ignited by his touch, and now the flames were engulfing her, inch-by-inch.

_Her sex now drowned in its own moisture. _

Sensing he was not causing her pain, Edward pushed his fingers further in, moving them rhythmically, while using his thumb to massage her hardened pearl. He then turned back to her breast, and lightly licked the tip of her ripe nipple.

This organized symphony made Bella's body contort in extreme pleasure, and her tongue grazed her lips, relishing each second. She shamed her mother for allowing her to think sex was something dirty and sinful when it was not the act of sex at all, but her mother that was dirty and sinful-then she cursed herself for even having thoughts at all. _Just feel_, she reminded herself, _just feel_.

_The blood flowed violently within her, rushing like a wild river. _

She continued to tangle Edward's hair with her hands, forcing his head closer to her breasts. She enjoyed the light strokes of his raspy tongue, but silently begged again for the roughness of his mouth.

Sensing the time was right, Edward sat up and Bella followed-they both eagerly rushed to pull his trousers off. Their fingers were urgent and fumbled at his belt. Just the mere graze of her extremities sent Edward spiraling, his desire corpulent and yearning to be set free.

_Famished, his appetite was fierce._

Nude, he crawled back on top of Bella as she eased herself down; her body was spotted and patchy with crimson blotches. She wondered how this fire within would be dulled-_what more was there to come?_

With his lips barely above hers, he pleaded, "Please tell me if it hurts too much." He then placed his hand down below and guided his member into her. Edward gasped from the intensity, but forced himself to be still, as Bella's nails dug deep into his shoulder blades, her cry ringing in his ear.

Looking into her chocolate eyes, he tried to calm her with his own. But Bella needed only a moment until she found her breath, as she forced air in and out of her mouth. She knew she could endure the slight discomfort, for the intimacy with Edward was indescribable.

Unconsciously, Bella slid her hands around, and gripped his strained neck, asphyxiating him briefly. This caused Edward to move, shifting his weight, and the two moaned in unison. Bella knew she was ready.

Moving her hands down to his rear, she pushed his cheeks while spreading her legs further, causing him to fill her body full. Edward groaned as he leaned down and bit at her jaw; instincts taking over, he began thrusting to his finale, but not without slipping a hand back down to Bella's hardened pearl, rubbing it aggressively.

_And the flames grew in height, reaching its limit. _

From the sound of Bella's scream, he knew that he had delivered her first, and with her body squirming below him, he pulled his hand away and released forcibly into the fire below, calling out her name as he did so.

He then fell upon her, his body drenched in light dew, his desire still inside her; he did not want to pull out of her, but selfishly wanted this moment to last an eternity.

As Bella lightly grazed his back with the light touches of her fingers, Edward's favorite poem drifted into mind:

_Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood their wondering, fearing, _

_Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; _

_But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, _

_And the only word there spoken was the whispered word... _

Edward then softly spoke, "Bella."

~o~

Edward found himself unable to sleep, sounds of Bella's dreams swirling like an incubus above her lips.

He rose and sat blankly at his typewriter. Placing a new sheet within, he hit the keys blindly. _Poem_, _that's what I shall write_, thought Edward.

Having laid down his title, and the few lines to a new story, he realized his emotion at this moment would best be expressed by Burlesque poetry.

Glancing at Bella, he remembered the soft pleas that she moaned after she had fallen asleep. Her soft breath, haunting and begging for whoever it was to release her from their grip.

_Had she been abused? _Edward wondered. _Had someone tried to steal her innocence? _The thought made him angry, and he used this outrage to inspire.

She slipped into a state of delusion,

dancing, hitting, kissing.

Her demons extruding out, drowning the one she desires.

He is manic but dares to tip his feet into the abyss.

The two fall together, the echoes of their past still whispering.

The demon inside her grows strong,

as it becomes jealous of her lover.

What will the lover do next?

~o~

Looking at Edward still peacefully sleeping, Bella wanted to lean over and kiss him. Yet, still unsure of what truly had transpired between the two, she laid still trying to recount the previous night.

The kiss that started heated and vindictive, Mr. Oller and his offer, the humid hallway and its dark secrets. That is where it began.

Bella softly moaned, as she felt her nether region warm, contemplating Edward slipping his hands around her, slamming her against the wall. His desire swollen, piercing her, eventually leading them both back to his apartment, where for the first time, Bella lost herself to her lust.

On her back, Bella gently touched her stomach, as her leg instinctively nestled against Edward. She was now a woman, in all aspects, and it was because of _him_. Again, she glanced in his direction, but smiled as she realized Edward was quietly watching her. The two remained silent, emotionless for one moment. Behind Edward, Bella noticed the soiled sheets raveled in a tight ball on a chair. White cotton sheets, stained with the dark red tones of her sex. Bella felt the way those sheets appeared, dirty and used.

_Am I supposed to feel this way?_

_~o~_

**Author's Notes: Now Bella would not be Bella, if she did not over-think everything, serait-elle pas?**

**The poem that drifts into Edward's mind after their rendezvous is from Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven". The next word to that line should have been "Lenore."**


	6. Chapter 6

**Credits: To my beta, Evenflo78 and to my reader, my husband... I thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight, though some may say, Twilight owns me.**

~o~

As the fog permeated the bathroom, Bella allowed the hot water to pour over her, as if it had medicinal properties, cleansing and healing. She massaged her face continuously, rubbing the worries away from her brows.

She thought to herself, _why do I not feel happy? _

Her first encounter had been memorable to say the least, with Edward being gentle and kind, stroking her body and delivering a wave of pleasure that Bella had never experienced. Though she was slightly sore, and her legs unsteady; she was still pleased that Edward did not rip into her as she had imagined.

But still she could not rid the feeling.

_He kissed me tenderly. I slept soundly with him. He massaged me lovingly the next morning. Then he escorted me back, giving me a soft kiss upon my cheek._

After turning the handle, Bella stood naked within the tub. She took in a long breath and decided not to worry about things that have not transpired and concentrate on what had. Truth of the matter, she had given herself to Edward and at this moment, she was unsure of what lay ahead for the two.

Upon drying herself off, she slipped a light cotton dress over her head. Enough to cover her nakedness till she could walk down the hall (and out of the watchful eyes of the concierge) and into her apartment.

As she placed her key into the hole, Alice appeared in her doorway. "Do you have a moment?"

Unable to find an excuse, Bella turned back, peering over her shoulder. "Alice, can this wait? I really just want to rest before I have to work tonight."

"Oh my. You are working so soon?" Alice's voice brimming with concern.

"Well, if I want to provide for myself, then yes." Bella retorted petulantly.

"Well, I won't be much of your time. May I make you some tea?"

Sighing, Bella pulled the key out of the hole and turned slowly towards Alice's apartment. Whatever it was that the young woman wanted to say, was clearly important. Curiosity now had a firm grip on Bella, as she pondered what Alice would confide.

Inspecting her neighbor's apartment, Bella noticed a sense of lightness about Alice's furnishings; shades of white and ivory overwhelmingly dominant.

"Do you not like color?" Bella teased.

Sensing Bella's sarcasm, Alice giggled. "Oh, I do. Just not in my home. For some reason I'm drawn towards light colors." Placing a small kettle upon her stove, she turned to sit with Bella.

"I suppose you are wondering why I wanted to speak with you so early in the morning. I know it's strange, but I could not help noticing you with Edward last night. In fact, you spent the night with him, correct?"

Bella blushed from Alice's forwardness, quickly irritated at such a personal question. "I don't believe that is any of your business, why do you ask?"

For several moments, the two sat in silence. What seemed like an eternity was finally broken by Alice's confession.

Taking a deep breath, Alice continued to look down at the table dressing. "I just wanted to explain myself." Her voice became softer. "When Edward moved here two years ago, I quickly became enamored with him. Every day, I would see him walk by my shop, and every day I would try to catch his attention."

Again, there was a long period of intense silence, suddenly broken by the sound of the steaming kettle.

"Excusez-moi." Alice stood up to prepare the tea. Placing the porcelain pot between the two, she poured each a half cup. "Sugar?" Bella nodded.

"As I was saying... Edward was new in town but quick to make friends. Soon, he was writing for Moulin Rouge, and even quickly became a contributor to Courrier Francais. Bella, he was brilliant! But, I was not the only one who noticed him. Soon, Edward was seeing various women and sometimes at the same time.

"You would think I would be appalled at such behavior, but he became an obsession." Alice took a sip of her tea, while Bella sat dumbfounded, unsure of what secrets that might be spilled.

"When I was a teenager, I was always very conscious of my body. Concerned that I would never develop-that men would never find me attractive.

"As I matured, I realized that my worries were unfounded. Men did take notice, but I had clung to my own insecurities. Edward ignoring me, only tapped into that darkness within me, that lack of self confidence." Alice swallowed heavy, while rubbing her eyes.

"One day I worked up the courage to invite Edward to speak at my shop, recite some of his poems. He consented.

"After he finished, he lingered 'til my shop was empty... When I was finally able to finish cleaning, I turned off the lights and walked up to Edward, working up the courage to finally kiss him. After all, I could only presume he stayed behind for my benefit."

Bella let out a breath that she was holding and finished her cup reservedly. A part of her did not want to hear details, but a part of her _needed_ to know.

"He initially kissed me back, but then suddenly pulled away while whispering that this was a mistake, that he did not want to hurt me. Bewildered, I tried to lean in but this time, he held me in place by my shoulders."

Bella sighed, "Maybe Edward was confused and decided against it. Is that why you are upset with him?"

Alice put her hands lightly across her lap, her face becoming lifeless. "No, it is not."

Agitated, Bella wanted the full truth. "Well then? What else did he say?"

Alice's face contorted in pain. "He said that he was afraid of not being able to love me and that he didn't want me to hurt myself... He rejected me because he thought I was as crazy as my mother. Even if I ever suspected anyone of thinking such a thing, I would not expect them to voice it. Edward was the first person to say it out loud."

Any ill feelings that Bella had previously, were weakened by Alice's admission. She knew first hand what it was like to have a sick mother. People were cruel and quick to place judgment. A woman with any history is quickly regarded as worthless.

Bella took a moment to close her eyes. _Stupid Edward, why tell her such a thing._ Opening her eyes, she looked at Alice. "Well are you?" Bella said boldly.

Alice turned her attention to Bella and stared at her angrily.

"Well? Are you as mad as a hatter?" Bella tried her best to provoke a reaction. She wanted Alice to feel _something_ and not let this self pity consume her.

"No!" screamed Alice, the tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm not!" Alice now stood, her hands clenched tightly. "I am nothing like that woman! And I never will be!" she yelled defiantly.

Bella stood as well, coming around the table to meet Alice. Pulling her into an embrace, she spoke gently, "Times are changing Alice; let no man ever judge us. We will forge our own path, we will decide if we wish to marry."

Alice held onto Bella, and the two remained locked, their worlds different but altogether the same.

Bella thought of her strange surroundings, _maison sur l'avenue Frochot_-a collection of unusual souls, in need of one another, but desperate to be an individual.

~o~

As Jacob wiped his clarinet, he sat in his room thinking of the brunette that had caught his eye. French women were unique to say the least, but as a New Yorker, Jacob desperately missed his family and friends. Still this one woman had left such an impression; Jacob was intrigued by her strength.

Placing the instrument back in its case, he noticed a postcard hidden within an interior compartment. It was a photo of the ship he had sailed on to London, the RMS _Oceanic_. Picking it up, he turned it around. "Funny, I don't remember buying this." But strange as it may be, he instantly recognized the writing and the three simple words reflecting back on him like a vengeful and scorned lover.

_I will wait. _

Jacob's heart tightened. He felt shame for not loving _her _back, for not giving _her_ the life she deserved. But Jacob knew better than to marry someone he could not give himself fully to. In a moment of hesitation, he left Leah at the altar. It was harsh and it was impersonal but Jacob fled regardless. The world was changing and he was eager to be a part of it. As a trained musician, he could easily find work where ever he went. While boarding the ocean liner, he had asked a crew member of her size in relation to other ships. "She's the largest in the world, sir." the young man in a white uniform explained. _It was meant to be,_ thought Jacob. In his coat pocket was a healthy sum of money and a one way ticket, paid for by his father.

Flicking the postcard across the room, he wiped his mind of Leah and reminded himself of what he witnessed in the hallway-Edward fucking Cullen all over the brunette.

Gathering the tools of his trade, he picked up his case and headed out the door. In the back of his mind was the image of perfection; _her cream colored skin. _These thoughts would fuel his passion and his music would mask his intentions. _You'll tire of her soon, and I'll be there to pick up the pieces._ Jacob smiled as he closed the door to his small studio.

~o~

Edward had been immersed in his writing all day, taking moments to lie back in bed, smelling the sheets that still harbored her scent. Why he did such, he had no answer. It was strange and unusual behavior, but how they met was just as odd.

Still, this was more than lust and it scared Edward. In all his relationships, he had kept his distance, never allowing anyone to _know_ too much or to _feel _too much. Each woman knew exactly what they were getting into, and each without conscious chose him for that exact reason. Edward laughed to himself when he thought of this crazy town and the people within. Paris was brimming with those looking for freedom, looking to live without rules. _La bohème_, Edward continued to whisper-_a microcosm of sinners, hope our religion. _

Each time he arose, he poured his emotion out on paper. Words like, _drowning, demise, ending, and pain _appeared frequently.

As dusk drew near, Edward looked down one final time at his play and the many poems he had scribbled. With one fell swoop, he cleaned his desk. "Crap!" he yelled. "All crap!" Edward kicked the chair over and threw his typewriter on the ground. He combed his hands through his hair, slipping to the ground. In his temper tantrum, he felt lost and for the first time, he did not know how to recover. Turning to the bottle of laudanum, he self medicated his angst and closed his eyes to the delirium.

~o~

An irregular breeze kissed the evening, warmth that diffused a subtle heat wave among the streets of Paris. Everyone welcomed it; the men reveled in its gifts, the women having an excuse to dress scantily.

Inside Le Moulin Rouge, Edward still somewhat drugged, sat with Henri at his table.

"Bonjour!" Henri said, as he smiled at the disheveled body that sat across from him.

Edward merely nodded, as he flagged a waitress nearby. "A bottle please." No stranger to the club, the young woman knew exactly what to bring; a bottle of Absinthe.

"Bad day?" Henri said with concern.

"My writing is suffering." Edward mumbled.

"Is that so? And why?" Henri tried his best to feel empathetic, but he knew Edward's episodes were always a case of writer's block.

"Because all I see is death! My character always starts off strong, but in the end, she is weak and crumbles. How can she fall in love?" Edward's voice took on a tone of frustration.

"Edward, why don't you write it from the man's point of view? Try writing an opera. You've wanted to write one for such a long time, I think it would be fascinating if you put yourself in your characters position.

"Stop all your other work, and take a break from your journalism. Besides you've done enough damage as it is. Focus on your true passion."

The waitress brought two small glasses and poured the herbal elixir. Edward quickly grabbed for his, drinking it in one furious gulp.

"Damage you say? How so?" Edward said contemptuously. Leaning in, he begged with his facial expressions for a reply.

"Well, you consistently write such villainous tales of the _Montmartre _in the paper; pimps, prostitutes, criminals seething within the wall cracks."

Edward let out a loud laugh. "Are you not the same Henri? Is it not you that constantly points this out? What is wrong in telling the truth?"

Henri thought of his neighbor, Bella, and how she saw their environment. For her, it was picturesque and colorful, flavored by unique individuals. This had struck a chord with Henri, and he felt determined to protect Bella's _Montramarte_, even if it was not his own.

"You create caricatures of the people who live here. Your take on the district reeks of the old regime." Henri said with little emotion to his words.

Edward slammed his fist down. "Nonsense! How dare you! Do you even understand bourgeois? Henri, look at the young waitress. To her, the man tipping her is the bourgeois. To that man tipping the young waitress, his boss who pays his weekly income is the bourgeois. To his boss who pays out weekly wages, it is the customer that is the bourgeois. Once that customer pays his bill, then the boss spits on the ground behind him, calling him a filthy animal behind his back.

"Your country is arrogant! It is only a matter of time before another country wipes the red lipstick off France's lips, forcing it to suck respectfully on their penis. War is coming Henri, that I can tell you."

Henri, who had just poured his second drink nearly spilled its content in laughter. "And that my friend, is why I adore you! Touché, Edward. You ugly Englishman!"

The two cackled as they continued their heated debate on political reform and social movement but before they could drink their next round, Bella was being introduced. At the owner's last words, a soft harmonic voice chimed over the clatter of the boisterous patrons of the club.

Both Henri and Edward turned towards the stage, Henri clapping as a proud father does for a child while Edward merely sat still, his eyes transfixed.

Next came the orchestra, which complimented Bella's voice like the sound of the ocean as it touches the sand. The energy of the room seemed to be hypnotized and seduced by Bella's presence and when her song had reached its stride, the melody changed and the dancers came out, bringing chaos to an eager crowd.

When Bella finished, the applause was deafening and the sounds of _encore_ echoed loudly. Bella ran back behind the stage, eager to hear Alice's remarks.

"Well, what did you think?" A light sweat began to form over Bella's body. She was shaking from excitement.

"What do I think? Do you hear them? Do you hear the yells? _That _is what I think! You were spectacular!" Alice cheered as she pointed towards the noise.

"Alice thank you so much for being here. I know it was short notice to ask you to come, but I appreciate you locking up the shop."

Though the two women had been leery of each other, they quickly realized that there was some truth to strength in numbers.

"Bella, it was your first time performing. Of course I had to be here. Besides, there is a young man out there named Jasper that I promised to meet again. Oh Bella, you have to meet him!" Alice began to bounce at the mention of his name.

In the beginning, Alice did not find Jasper attractive but soon enough, she warmed to his radiant smile.

"Alice you didn't tell me..." a single rose was placed in front of Bella's nose. "Oh!" Surprised, Bella turned around to meet the fan. As she looked at him, she remembered him as the musician the other night that had come to her aid. Smiling, she took the rose. "Thank you," Bella whispered.

"No, _thank you_. Your voice was amazing. You make us musicians look good. Hey, I've got to go back out again, but I just wanted a moment to introduce myself. Would you be kind enough to walk out with me?" Jacob held out his arm.

Bella looked back at Alice, while Alice gave a deviant smile. "I'll be fine. Go!"

"By the way, I'm Jacob."

Sighing, Bella took Jacob's arm, rose still firmly gripped in her other hand. "I'm Bella. Nice to meet you Jacob."

As the two came around the bend, Bella immediately scanned the room for Edward. She was having mixed feelings about him, but her body urged her to find him. There he sat smugly at Henri's table, laughing nonchalantly. Behind him a young man stood and waived in her direction. Confused, Bella turned her head and realized Alice was behind her. "Jasper," Bella whispered.

"Hmm. Did you say something?" Jacob asked. He leaned his head sideways in an attempt to hear Bella better. The noise from the crowd could be deafening.

"No, no. Just talking to myself," Bella replied but as she tried to focus on Jasper, her eyes darted back to Edward.

Instinctively, Edward turned in Bella's direction but was caught off guard by her escort. "Who the fuck..." he murmured. "The musician," Edward continued to say.

"What musician?" Henri asked as he tipped his drink back immediately startled by a crack of glass from the other side of the table. Looking at the spilled drink, the sharp shards littering the table, he became perturbed. "Edward your hand is bleeding."

~o~

**Author's Notes: Fun fact about the ship that Jacob sailed on-Built by White Star Line, it was indeed the largest ship in the world from 1899-1901. Commissioned by the Royal Navy Service, she was put into battle during WWI. Some of her famous sister ships include the RMS _Titanic_ and _Britannic_. **

**Writers, along with artists were very much a part of the growing culture of the _Montmartre-Courrier Francais _did in fact exist and played a large role in commercializing the antics of the era. **

**Edward and (most) of his opinions are riddled with actual sentiments from a popular pamphlet from the 1840's _Bourgeois Physiology_, let's just say many felt you could _"Scratch a Bohemian, find a Bourgeois." _**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer does.**

**Credit: To my Beta, Evenflo78. She is FANTASTIC! To husband who reads each chapter. He ROCKS!**

**Author's Notes: I apologize for the long delay between chapters. The school and the holidays have ravaged me and eaten me alive. But I have survived and will be updating in a timely manner from here on out.**

**Dedicated to my daughter (who does not read my stories, she only knows that I write) who has issued the challenge to incorporate the titles of as many Beatle songs as I can, there are a few hidden within the chapter.**

~o~

Immediately at Edward's side, Bella took a napkin and wrapped it around Edward's hand. Pressing into his palm, she looked into his eyes searching for kind of recognition, a hint of approval.

Though Edward had let jealousy consume him for one brief instant, it quelled with her soft touches as she sat quietly catering to his utter ridiculousness. He became embarrassed by his actions and dared not to look in her direction.

Henri, sensing what was transpiring, merely sighed as he watched the two from across the table, how they trifled with each other. If only I were a mirror, he thought.

At that moment, another waitress brought Bella a wet cloth to clean Edward's soiled wrists. Bella took the wet napkin and began to wipe, and as she did so, Edward whispered, "Thank you." Smiling back at him, again she looked to him for approval. With his eyebrows tensed, his jaw clenched, Edward only reflected confusion.

Henri could not stand it anymore and turned his attention to the crowd, oblivious to the frivolous commotions of his table. In the distance, Maria was dancing jovially with a patron. The older man that she was entertaining said something offensive to Maria, but playing naive, Maria pretended to be amused. As the old man walked over to his table to take a quick drink, Maria's smile faded and vanished. She was tired of men thinking that she was unintelligent, incapable of conversation. _What do you know, you're just a woman. Why don't you let the men worry about such issues. _Maria scanned the room, and soured in disgust thinking what hypocrites most of them were-while she was probably more educated than most of them. Then she became caught in _his_ gaze... The only one that would engage her in intellectual conversation; the only one that saw her as an equal. Her face beamed with appreciation at the site of Henri.

The two locked in a deep gaze, Henri thought, _all you need is love_ Maria.

~o~

Jacob was no dummy, the moment that Bella ran from him to be by Edward's side, was the moment he had lost her interest, if only for the time being. She had been watching Edward all along, eager for his attention like some starved puppy.

Yet, Leah had acted in the same manner towards Jacob, begging for any emotion, any sign of comprise, any opportunity to be at his side. Leah would have happily spent an eternity with Jacob, even if he did not love her. All that she asked in return was that he never leave her. But he did.

Stubbornly, Leah proved that even an ocean could not separate them; her simple words on a postcard would forever haunt him.

With one hand in his pocket, the other flipping a coin, he turned to head back towards the dressing rooms.

Jacob felt at odds. He hated that Edward could not even see how good he had it. It was clear that Bella was smitten with him. Yet, the same could be said about Jacob. He remembered his mother's words, "You'll regret this, Jacob Black. Leah is the best thing that will ever happen to you."

_Was she?_ Jacob stopped and looked down at the American nickel that he kept in his pocket for good luck. Rubbing it between his fingers always made him feel better, especially when he missed his family. "Who is the fool now?", Jacob whispered.

At the edge of the stage, he turned back to look at Bella. She did not even notice that she had walked away from him. Jacob sighed as he reached for a glass that a waitress was balancing on her tray. "Vous idiot!" the waitress yelled. "I will let it slide this time, Jacob, but you know the rules. Employees do not get drinks free!"

"Pardonnez-moi. I'll pay for the next one." Jacob winked at the young woman.

"You're lucky that you are an attractive American, otherwise I would give you hell, Jacob." With that, the waitress gave a wink back and turned on her heels, leaving Jacob to himself.

Setting the empty glass on the beam of the railing, he thought to himself, at this point Bella _I want to hold your hand _and nothing more.

~o~

After Bella had finished cleaning the droplets of blood that had stained Edward's wrists, she placed the moist napkin down on the table and turned defiantly towards him. "Will I see you tonight after work?"

Edward was taken back at her directness; he did not know how to respond. If Henri had been listening, he certainly could have corrected the calamity before him, but Maria had come to kneel before him. "Shall we try tonight to paint? I promise I will not be ill. I'm feeling very well, and I think I need to see you, Henri. If you will try once again to paint me..." Her last words hung with desperation.

Though Henri was nervous at being rejected again, there was something about her that commanded his attention. He could not resist, even if it meant the death of his heart. Henri stood and Maria followed. If she had been with any other patron, Mr. Oller would have scolded her for leaving. But Mr. Oller took care of certain patrons, and as the two proceeded out, Mr. Oller, who stood near the entrance, glanced down at his pocket watch.

"The night has just begun," Mr. Oller whispered to himself.

~o~

Edward sat quietly next to Bella. To start an affair... his mind was reeling. He was always cautious about spending time with women that might want more from him than he was capable of giving but looking over at Bella, something was different about her... about all of _this_.

"Of course Bella, I'll be here all night." As he leaned in to kiss her cheek, he felt his body temperature rise. To be near her, to touch her. Edward knew this was the beginning. _Of w__hat_, he was still not sure of.

At the touch of his lips, Bella closed her eyes for one second. She did not want Edward to think that she would just lie on her back like any of these other young waitresses, but she knew what she wanted and _it _resided in him. Whatever would come of this, she would play her part willingly.

Pushing her chair in, she stood near Edward and brushed his hair back. _It's always so messy, is this sign of how he lives his life? _

Heading back towards the stage, Bella remembered...

Spinning, she looked back to see where Alice was, but the couple was nowhere in sight. She did not want to make it look as if she was checking up on Edward, so she made sure to exaggerate her movements, scanning the vastness of the club. Edward watched her with fascination. Curious to see who she could be aggressively looking for, he waited in anticipation for this mysterious person.

Behind her, stepped Jacob.

"Fuck!" Edward yelled but the music began to play and the dance hall once again filled with lively patrons.

~o~

At the end of the night, Bella sat on a worn sofa in one of the back dressing rooms. Her feet were killing her, and her lower back ached. "Rough night?" Jacob said as he passed her open door.

"Unfortunately, yes. Will I ever get used to this?"

Jacob laughed as he leaned in against the door frame. "Probably not. You better marry a rich man, so you can get out of this dump."

Bella scowled at Jacob's remark but knew he did not mean to offend her.

"Suppose, I never want to be married." Bella leaned back and placed her feet upon a small coffee table. Having checked on Edward, she knew he was in good company within the club, as the doors would not fully shut for another hour, he was deep in some political debate with several business owners.

Jacob took his coat off, folded it and placed it over one arm. "Then I can't begrudge you on that. After all, I'm not looking to get married either."

Bella suspiciously leaned her head over, as she began to undo her hair. "Is that so? Now why would a handsome young man like yourself not fancy having a wife and family?" She sat straight up as she proclaimed, "Are you in trouble with the law?"

Jacob gave a smirk, as he shook his head. "Nope, I'm clean. I guess I'm just a lone wolf."

Bella laughed out loud at his remark. "That is the stupidest answer anyone could ever give. No really, why are you here, Yankee? Is that what they call you Americans?"

Jacob snickered as he entered the room. Sitting next to Bella, he contemplated how much he wanted to confide in her. Sighing, he knew he wanted to be as honest as possible. "I was engaged to be married once."

"Really," Bella whispered. "Did she pass away? Please God; tell me I am not opening my big mouth..."

"No, Bella. It's fine. She didn't pass away. She's still back in New York. It's..."

"You didn't love her?" Bella asked timidly.

Jacob became flushed at Bella's question. Having another person confront your actions was much worse than your own mind. Her words stung.

"I wish I could say it was more complicated than that. But... I guess I'd be lying." Jacob leaned forward and rested his head on his thumbs. "I don't know, Bella. There's something inside of me, something wild and reckless. I hated the thought of following in my father's footsteps, marrying the girl that I'd know since a kid, being stuck in that same fucking building for the rest of my life."

Bella blinked her eyes and raised her brows in concern. The conversation was getting deeper than she had anticipated. "Jacob," Bella started. "Do you think men are the only ones that feel that? That feel that there is something else out there, something better than the shithole that they are living in? You think I want to be dancer in a club? I chose this profession so I could afford to pay my own way. I have no formal education, I have no talents. Only my voice and my looks. And if I'm lucky, a decent man will take interest in me..." Bella began to choke back tears.

"Hey, hey. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry Bella."

"It's not you." Bella wiped the few tears that fell softly down her cheeks. "I hated my mother, hated everything about her and here I am thinking the same crap... Why do I think I'm lucky if a man that I don't love will decide to marry me?"

"Bella, it doesn't mean anything. Everyone is trying to get ahead. It takes money to survive. I know how you feel, don't feel like you have to clarify yourself. And as for luck, any man that you decide to marry is the lucky one."

"Really? Even if I don't love him?"

Standing, Jacob laughed. "Enough of this love shit, why are you still here? Let's go home."

"You go ahead, I'm waiting for someone." And on cue, Edward appeared in the doorway. His lips slightly pursed, his eyes fixated... on Jacob.

"Well then." Turning toward Bella, Jacob bowed. "It's been a pleasure; I'll see you tomorrow night."

As he walked toward the door frame, Edward made no attempt to move. Jacob smiled, "Mr. Cullen. I hope your night was pleasant."

"It will be once Bella and I get back to my apartment."

"Edward!" Bella yelled, but as she stood to correct the situation, Jacob had already left. Wounded, he rounded the corner of the hallway and tore through the dance hall. Edward's words had more of an impact on him than he could handle at the moment.

Feeling at a loss for words, Bella scowled at Edward with anger. "How could you say something so distasteful like that? About me? To him… What did Jacob ever do to you?"

"Jacob? Is that his name?" Edward began to sit on the worn sofa, patting the space next to him. "Sit Bella, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you with that comment. I don't..." He sighed.

Taking a seat, Bella put distance between them, but Edward quickly filled the void. "Bella, I'm sorry. Please don't be like that." Putting his hand softly behind her neck, he eased her loose strands away from her ear. Leaning in, he whispered, "I can't help my emotions when I'm around you. I hate myself for that. _I'm just a jealous guy_." Kissing lightly below her ear, he lingered and let his lips trail her skin till he reached her collar bone.

"Edward, please don't be. We're merely friends and that is all I can handle right now. I'll leave it to you to decide where we go from here." Swallowing, Bella realized that she had just given Edward her heart.

With his right hand still fondling the back of her neck, his left hand eased slowly along her thigh till he reached her desire. "Will you come back to my apartment tonight? I feel the need to be close to you."

Bella knew that their friendship was already doomed, yet she could not tear herself from his grips. His touch, his mouth, his whispers and confessions. She wanted to be his everything and nothing at the same time... as she allowed Edward to assist her up, she noticed a silver coin teetering between the two cushions. Picking it up, it's an American buffalo nickel. "_I will_," Bella said softly.

~o~

**Author's Notes: Okay, I have humored my daughter. **

**All You Need Is Love-Beatles 1967**

**I Want To Hold Your Hand-Beatles 1963**

**Jealous Guy-John Lennon 1971**

**I Will-Beatles 1968**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Let's check... nope. Still don't own Twilight. Only the plot content.**

**Credits for Awesomeness: That would go to my beta, Evenflo78. Without her encouraging words, I'd throw my laptop across the room like Edward in a hearbeat. And of course, my husband "the reader".**

~o~

Entering through Edward's gate, spoke volumes. Though she ascended, her heart was falling. The air between the two was thick and heavy with distress. Yet their bodies told otherwise. As he placed the key into the hole, he stopped and lightly caressed Bella's arm. She was trembling.

"Bella, are you alright? We can just talk if you want..."

"No!"

She kept her gaze forward, unable to make eye contact with him.

Allowing her to pass first, he felt uneasy with her discomfort.

Bella found herself drawn into the small apartment. As she went to place her small satchel upon the chair near his desk, she glanced quickly at the disorder. Papers strewn everywhere. Some waded into balls on the floor, some ripped into pieces. A few poetry books fallen to their sides, one severely stained.

Coming up from behind her, Edward spoke softly, placing both hands lightly on her shoulders. "I'm having a hard time with my writing. My style, the content. It seems to change hourly. I fucking cannot complete anything."

Bella's brow cocked as she turned toward the sound of his voice. Always angry, always making excuses. "So why make such demands? Let it happen on its own."

"Let what happen, my dear?" Edward said, as he kissed along her neck. He knew her words had meaning, but he had never spoken about what _made_ him write or how he felt about _it_ to anyone. Not even his good friend, Henri.

"Whatever is inside you? What's fighting to come out-Stop telling it when and where."

Studying the features on his face, she searched for depth, but he was unreadable. Like a dark and vast ocean, she was unsure if she could ever reach the bottom. Picking up his injured hand, she put it to her parted lips and rubbed them lightly. "Edward, do you trust me?"

Once again, Edward was taken aback by Bella and her choice of words. There was no doubt he lusted for her, even greatly desired her. But he could sense she wanted more.

He groaned while closing his eyes in response; unable to disclose his own feelings.

Bella backed off, stepping away from him. She tried to remind herself that she knew Edward had a reputation. Alice had even warned her... but she hoped... _No_, she had to rid herself of any foolish fantasies of ever changing him.

Hitting the desk behind her, a few items crashed to the floor. In the same instance, Edward lunged forward and grabbed her, swiping the remainder that lay behind her to the ground. A loud sound was heard when his typewriter collided against the wood planks. He lifted Bella onto the aged writing desk; her gown rising up exposing her cool skin. Edward's hands became needy, touching and searching.

There was something piercing Bella's back, but Edward was consuming her. She reveled in the pain, associating it with punishment.

Biting the swollen flesh that peeked from the upper portion of Bella's gown, Edward ravaged her body. His moans became audibly louder as his hands slipped between her warm thighs.

He pushed his fingers deep within her. Bella yelped in agony, as a pen fountain in its holder pierced her back. "Please Edward... the bed."

He carried her, easing her onto the mattress. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. Once I start touching you, I can't stop myself." His admission spilled from his lips.

Gazing at the ceiling, Bella stared off in deep thought while Edward undressed her. Considering the speed of his actions, she wondered how many times he had done this before but quickly dispelled any negative thoughts. She would have to accept him... all of him, including his past.

Back on her bum, she sat up on her elbows and used her right foot to lift his shirt. Edward began unbuttoning his top, while Bella's foot slipped down to his enlarged member that twitched while she massaged him.

Knowing he was still in a state of _need_, Bella used this opportunity to get answers. Responses to things that had been plaguing her-she felt so distant from the _true_ Edward. But here in this moment; this was the true Edward.

"Who was that woman that you were with when I saw you exiting your apartment?"

Edward grabbed Bella's foot and pushed it against his groan, moaning in pleasure. "Bella, not now," he gruffed. He wasn't prepared to explain each relationship. After all, Tanya was not even a friend. She was an arrangement.

Pushing her foot hard, Bella refused to let him throw her inquisitions aside. "No, now! Who is she to you? Do you see her often? She comes into Moulin, Edward. I need to know what you are to her. Tell me or I will get up and leave."

Edward dropped her foot and took a second to digest her words. Reaching for all her articles of clothing, he scooped them within his arms and stood near the front door. "You won't be able to leave nude. I mean, I suppose you could..." He followed up his child-like behavior with an obnoxious wink.

Furious that he would play some silly game rather than be honest with her, Bella stood up on the bed allowing him full view of her slender figure. "Do you mean to tell me you cannot answer one question... one simple question? You. Are an ass, Mr. Cullen. I'm off to see Jacob. He's much easier to converse with. In fact, I quite enjoy his company. Then maybe you can call upon your acquaintance Tanya... or is she your sister? Dear heavens, I don't know. And why is that? Because you haven't the decency to explain." She jumped off the bed and began to saunter towards him.

Amused, Edward moved. _She wouldn't. No! She is!_

With a defiant grin seizing her face, Bella opened the door, pouncing down on each stair, determined to cause a ruckus. The cool air that swept up to meet her, teased her auburn hair. _If he wants to play, then we shall play. But we play what I want!_

"Sweet Virgin Mary, Bella!" Edward yelled. Throwing her belongings onto the ground, he dashed down the steps after her.

It was the devil's hour and in the pitch black, Bella stood near Alice's shop, her back to the rod iron gate; her skin glowing from the exterior lighting.

Hitting the pavement, Edward stopped. He was happy that she didn't venture out any further but he was frightened. Unsure of himself, his words came out harsh and demanding. "Bella, please. Come back inside before someone sees you."

"No." Bella said. She turned exposing her chilled body, small bumps hued a soft pink encompassed her chest from her own fury. "Edward, I know you do not know me very well. But have the decency to speak to me... like you would a lover... You don't even give me that satisfaction. You just take and take. Edward, I want to know you-your thoughts-your worries... I just don't think I can give anymore if you do not..."

Silencing her, Edward stepped forward and lifted her delicate frame over his shoulder. With her bottom exposed, his irritation began to culminate into a desire to thrust his hand hard on her supple flesh-spank her until she cast any doubt out of her mind. Yet, he sighed knowing Bella was not unreasonable. He was keeping her distant. Locking her away like some porcelain China doll in a glass case, only taking her out when he wanted. They were intimate strangers... but she wanted differently.

As he climbed back up the staircase, listening to Bella's demands to be released, he thought about her standing below the gas lamp. Her nude body perfect in every manner. Her skin, illuminated. She appeared like a living angel standing effortlessly in _La Ville-Lumière. _That image would remain for eternity within his mind, and he prayed that it would come to him in his dreams.

Kicking the front door open, he placed her petite body down, fearing that if he didn't speak quickly, she would leave. "Bella. I'm not good at _this_... For you... I will try. Ask me what you want to know, and I'll answer. You have to understand I'm not good at speaking the truth. I have to sit and brew, put my words onto paper. I read my own thoughts thinking what a pretentious ass this person is. Often, I conflict with my own feelings. But paper can be thrown away, easily hid. What I might say out loud... is forever."

"Edward, that's not true. Do you not speak your heart when you talk politics with Henri? Do you fear to give your opinion then?"

He nodded his head in frustration.

"Then treat me the same. You have passion for government, for the world... and you have no problem telling people how you feel... I know you have passion for me. Please just try…"

Edward sighed. Things were moving rapidly, and in such a short period of time. Looking up at a leak near the back portion of his apartment; his eyes moved to the fresh stain on the ceiling from a storm that had rolled through. The rain came down so violently in just a few hours that the roof gutter clogged and backed up, unable to handle the volume of water. He was beginning to feel like a rain gutter.

But still he could not deny the storm that stood with such vigor in front of him.

The two made love, but this time there was greater intensity in their kisses, an urgency that echoed each time they touched one another. Bella began to explore her sensual side, moving down to the fire that blazed within him, placing the flames in her mouth; her tongue scouting and tasting until she left it nothing more than smoldering ash.

Fatigued, the two laid on the bed staring off in different directions. "Her name is Tanya. She's nothing more than someone I call when I'm lonely."

"Lonely?" Bella said with sarcasm.

Edward leaned over to face her, "Horny. Is that a better word?"

Bella smiled because for the first time Edward was opening up to her-allowing her to enter foreign territory. "Are the two not the same?"

Edward fell back upon the pillow and sighed. "I don't think so. Being horny is like being hungry. It's just a feeling-a desire that needs to be dealt with. I can take care of it myself or let someone else take care of it for me.

"But being lonely... Ah, now that is different. It's private-deep within your mind, your soul. It can make you feel ill, take your will to live. It can grow into a monster. I wouldn't share that fucking misery with anyone."

"Edward that is your problem; the two are the same, an evil twin of the other. You pretend that if you give one a different meaning, you've justified your actions. When you are horny, do you not seek the comfort of others? As you said, you could easily take care of it yourself if you didn't want to hassle with women. But you enjoy the company with others, the intimacy. I despise anyone who can't see that. My mother was..." Bella trailed off. Her time with Edward was precious and she didn't want to convolute it with her demons. But still, the thought disturbed her.

"Are all writers like you, Edward? Dismal and dark… Always brooding?"

Edward smiled. He knew from the moment he met Bella, drunken on the dance floor that she was unique... shrewdly quick witted. And now he was realizing _this_ was why he liked her so much. "Hmm. Brooding? Dark? Me? Never."

"You are a master of literary vomit."

Laughing, he leaned over and gave Bella a kiss on the forehead. "Yes, we all are. I take pride in creating paperback bull-shit. But it pays my bills. What's even more fascinating? Editing other literary vomit. There's loads out there Bella. I just make it more palpable."

"Were you beaten as a child, starved?"

"If I tell you, you might leave me... the answer is no. I was quite loved by both of my parents who are still happily married back in London." He caressed her cheek while he whispered, "Bella. I'm just a dick. You don't want to fall for me. It will never work. I'm a selfish, arrogant bastard. I only think of myself, and ironically, I have no excuse for it."

Bella closed her eyes, holding back her emotion. In those last words she knew, he had been the most honest he could ever be, even if it was unknowing and jokingly. There was nothing wrong with him, he didn't have a horrible mother like Bella; he wasn't belittled and humiliated as a child like Henri. He didn't have a parent admitted to the insane asylum like Alice.

He was just _Edward_.

The two curled up with each other understanding they had spoken enough for one night. Bella allowed Edward to place his arms around her, even if this sense of security was an illusion, and Edward without conscience, placed his porcelain China doll back into its glass case.

~o~

**Author's Notes: I know, I know. _This_ Edward is simply just an ass. No issues of abandonment, no deaths in the family... nada. Please don't hate on him, he has a good heart. I promise. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Only the content to my stories and all original characters. **

**Credit: My cheerleader and editor, Evenflo78. Everyone should have one. And my reader and police of "unnecessary words", my husband.**

~o~

As Spring was making it's departure, Summer was teasing Parisians with smells of lust, desire and love. A month had passed with Bella and Edward falling into a routine-he would spend every minute nearby while she was working, and their late evenings were devoted to love making. She spent her days at her apartment either tending to the garden with Alice or having Henri over for tea. She appeared happy on the surface, but beneath grew weary and tired of their arrangement.

However, Paris would not be out done so easily. It had cast its spell upon the other two members of the mansion. Jasper had become a fixture at Alice's apartment, doting on her every need. The two seemed smitten with each other, and in Alice's mind, she had finally met someone who did not hold her past against her. Their friendship was genuine, and often Jasper made Alice laugh with his unusual interpretations of poetry. The few times Bella had met Jasper, she marveled at his ability to find humor in life. He was, as they say, exactly what the doctor ordered-Alice needed a companion who could make her smile.

For Henri, Cupid had finally cast his arrow. He had succumbed to love despite his fear, and in turn, it had returned equally. Marie had practically moved into the apartment, and often Bella would catch the aroma of linseed oil at work as Marie passed. Yet Bella still wondered, still watched. She knew if things did not work out with Edward, it would not destroy her. And Alice was a strong woman, whether she believed it or not. But Henri... his wisdom hid his inner demons, and Bella knew that despite all his advice, his statements of understanding, his words... he teetered on the precipice of an endless void. If Henri ever fell into it, he would remain and never come out.

~o~

Alice had dropped off a basket of confections at Bella's apartment, and not wanting to eat them alone, Bella ventured down the stairs to share them with Henri.

"Bonjour, Bella," Marie said cheerfully, as she held the door open.

"Bonjour, Marie. I bring breakfast, courtesy of our resident baker." Bella held the muffins out.

As Marie took the basket, Bella looked around Henri's apartment realizing it had been some time since she had ventured inside. It seemed in the last month Henri had been inspired, several new paintings lined the wall. One she recognized immediately. It was a painting of a woman sitting on the floor. A blue sheet haphazardly strewn across her waist, her black stockings pulled up to her knees. Her top half nude, with her back exposed to the painter. Her face hidden keeping her secrets. The portrait was of Marie.

As she knelt to study it closer, she found herself transfixed by how beautiful this picture really was. Only the artist knew... it was a story within a story.

Peering back to look at the couple, Bella noticed Marie's eyes glistening with pride. Henri by her side, Marie leaned over and kissed her beloved on the lips. "You are, my dear... The most brilliant artist that has ever lived." Henri shied from her words, but his facial expressions told otherwise. His smile was only for her, and hers for him.

Bella felt awkward at that moment because she realized that Marie and Henri had indeed fallen in love with each other. She had held so many preconceptions and reservations about Marie, but alas, she did not need to fear anymore. Still, something felt amiss. In a moment of clarity, Bella finally recognized it was not with the couple in front of her. It was within her.

"Henri, do you think it is alright if one person loves enough for two?" Bella asked.

Both Henri and Marie stopped in mid-kiss and looked over at the young girl squatting on the floor. Henri sighed; the young woman had come with aspirations of freedom. Yet, one ill-feeling had only replaced another, and there sat a woman in torment, confused by her emotions.

Instinctively, Marie grabbed Henri's hand explaining that it was best if she spent the day cleaning her apartment. Henri walked his love to the door and the two embraced, Marie clinging her frail hands upon his cheeks whispering, "I will see you tomorrow my love."

When Henri shut the door, his mind became muddled as he went looking for something hidden in a pile of papers stacked high on his desk. Pulling out several pieces, he walked them over to Bella, handing them to her as she sat upon the ground. "Did I ever show you these drawings? I did them when I was thirteen after my accident. I had broken both my legs and was confined to my bed.

"This is a picture of mother. She was beautiful... still is."

Bella sifted through the pieces of parchment perplexed at the turn that their conversation had taken. Not fully understanding, Bella questioned Henri. "Your mother is beautiful, Henri, but please forgive me..."

Henri cut Bella off mid-sentence, "You asked me if I thought it was enough for one person to love for two. My answer is no, it is not. I loved my mother more than anything, more than myself. But when I broke my legs and complications stunted my growth, she distanced herself from me. Could have been the pain of seeing her only son handicapped, I don't know. I was young and confused. I needed my mother but she did not need me. It took me a long time to realize that Bella. One person can never love enough for two. It is an unhealthy balance in a very one-sided relationship. At some point, you have to move on, even if your heart tells you otherwise."

Bella sighed, Henri's response was not necessarily what she wanted to hear. Yet Bella knew her feelings were becoming strong for Edward, and it was causing her to be blind. She was unsure if he cared for her the same, or if they were unequally yoked.

To lighten the mood, Henri wanted to distract Bella from Edward, giving her a chance to breath.

"It is your day off, is it not?" he asked.

"Yes, it is... Why Henri, are you asking me out on a date?"

"Today, I spend every minute with you! Come," Henri motioned Bella to head outside. "I want to show you something first in the garden."

Amused, Bella replied, "The garden?" She stood and followed the eccentric artist. Outside the garden took on an ethereal look-the morning sun casting soft light upon the grounds. Henri wandered the pathways searching...

"Let me see... Ah! Here's the plant." Henri pointed his cane to the withered bush. "When Alice first planted this bush, she adored it for the blossoms that it would bloom. But when it started to show signs of weakness, ill-health. She began to water it... daily. She never gave it the chance to strengthen on its own. Would it have survived? Maybe, maybe not. But she killed it by watering the poor thing every day."

Henri looked over at Bella whose smile began to diminish and though she did not respond, the story was not lost on her. She had to wonder...

"Oh Bella, don't mind me. You must know that by now. Let's see. What shall we do today... I know! Shall we go to India? Have a dress made for the princess? Then visit ridiculously expensive artifacts while acting precariously pretentious?"

"What in God's name are you talking about, India?"

"Yes, India! Alice just received a shipment of some very aromatic Darjeeling tea. We can sip from our cup, pretending to be on a religious venture in Varanasi."

Bella began to laugh.

"Of course when we are done having tea in Varanasi, we must head to Bengal and have a dress made. All princesses must have one beautiful gown made each year. Symbolic of their aging beauty."

How Bella adored Henri. While watching him speak, his arms wildly interpreting his words, she realized what he had become to her. He was her family. Her inexplicably deranged family. And for that, she loved him.

~o~

As the two opened the doors to Alice's shop, the bouquet of black tea overwhelmed them. Traditionally Alice's customers favored their coffee, but Alice had a small following of tea enthusiasts that came to her specifically for her ability to find exotic blends. This late morning she was pleased to be serving her newest addition, a whole leaf Darjeeling tea imported from Soureni. Nearly every patron had ordered a pot.

"Mmm. The smell is... divine." Bella said.

"And wait till you have a taste. It will transport you worlds away." Looking for an empty table, Henri was pleased to see that Alice had reserved two seats near the window. "Ah, here we go! This way my dear. I see that our dear friend has made us a spot over there which will be perfect for mocking the bourgeois that walk by. Come..."

Bella shook her head as she followed Henri to the two-seater near the corner. As they sat, she heard a loud thump above. _Must he haunt me even in my time of separation? _

"That damn writer! Sometimes he gets angry and throws things! I swear, if I owned the building I would kick him out." Alice said, as she pulled an empty seat from an adjacent table. "Try this Bella, it is my absolute favorite tea." Pouring her a cup, she waited till Bella took a sip, eager for her comments.

"Mmm... it is so flavorful." Bella said.

And once again there was a loud thump, but this time it was accompanied with profanity. Alice got up and immediately leaned over, closing shut the small window by their table. "Must be that darn play of his. Bella, help him! Can't you ask to read it, offer some direction?"

"Alice, have you gone mad? Edward doesn't let me read anything. And he certainly won't take any advice from me. No, sorry. You'll just have to put up with your obnoxious neighbor."

"Would you two like to know what I think?" Henri offered? The two nodded.

"Fuck him."

Both Alice and Bella sat wide-eyed, staring at Henri in disbelief. Henri was never one to use foul language, and if he were not the consummate peace maker, tempers would get the best of most of his friends. But the way Henri replied, it was as if his words came from his _gut_. Both Alice and Bella began to laugh... uncontrollably.

"And I thought I was the only one that made you laugh?" Jasper said as he came around Alice's side.

"Oh, you do make me laugh my love. I've just never heard Henri... " wiping at her eyes, "I've never heard Henri be so blunt. That was brilliant!"

Alice got up and left the two to finish their pot of tea in peace. When she stood up, she thought she heard Henri whisper something about catching a train to Bengal, but she could not be sure that was what she had heard. Looking back, she watched Bella point across the street at someone, and then take her index finger to her nose, lifting it to simulate a pig.

Turning back around, Alice whispered, "We are a strange breed of people,"

~o~

**Author's Notes: Sometimes I envision this story as a French subtitled film, quirky and humorous. I hope you enjoy it. Your thoughts are always appreciated. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight, only the original content of my stories and all original characters.

**Credit**: My cheerleader and editor, Evenflo78—she is uberawesome. Everyone should have one, but you cannot have mine. And much love to my reader and police of "unnecessary words", my husband—I know you're tired coming home from work, but I adore you for reading my tales.

**~o~**

"Śukriyā! Thank you!" Henri said, as he tipped his hat back at Alice. "It's been wonderful! We're off to have a dress made."

Alice wanted to laugh but glanced at Bella, who shook her head embarrassed. "Yes, it's true. This princess has never had a dress made. A thousand noodle lashings for me! I have shamed Henri!"

"You are insane, you hear me. Absolutely Insane!" Alice yelled. As she turned to head back to her shop, Henri's smiled faded. How loosely she threw the word around. He did not approve of Alice using such language, but understood that she had no choice but to ignore the obvious. Though her mother had mental illness, Alice did not. To jest was her camouflage.

"Henri, are you sure you want to walk? I'm concerned about your pain." Bella said while looking down at his leg. Suddenly, Bella became timid and hesitant to continue.

"Go ahead; I can sense you want to ask me more." Henri stopped, lightly touching Bella's arm. "I trust you Bella. As I do too many. But I know in my heart, you never mean me harm. You can ask me anything, and likewise, I hope the same of you... If I ever have questions of my own."

Bella's face tensed noticeably. "Does your disability prevent you from having..."

"Sex," Henri finished.

"Yes, sex. I don't mean to pry. It's just... You and Marie look so content, so happy. I just want to be sure there aren't any issues that you two are keeping from me."

Henri became tickled by Bella's concerns. "You, Bella," he said, pointing his cane. "Worry too much about others, but since I adore you. I'll humor you. Yes, we are a full functioning couple. We enjoy kisses, light walks and romps in the bedroom. Do you know the size?" Henri asked, pulling at her gown.

"Henri! I don't need all that information! I was simply worried..."

Henri stopped in front of a large window where fabric hung atop a divider near the front entrance. "We're here... and silly, I was speaking of your dress size. Now pick your mind out of the gutter. Come! We still have one more destination!"

As the door opened, a bell tied with lace chimed. "Bonjour!" cried a voice from the back. Before Bella and Henri could offer their replies, out came a stout woman from behind a curtain. "Puis-je vous aider?"

"Yes, if you would be so kind. My dear friend here is in need in of a beautiful gown."

The dressmaker glanced at Bella's physique and became ecstatic by the thought of clothing her elegantly. "I have just the material." And off she spun.

Bella tried her best to smile, but then became consumed by the idea of the cost. Leaning over, she whispered her fears, "Henri. It does not need to be beautiful, plain will do just fine. I cannot afford for her to bring out expensive lace and satin."

Henri ignored her pleas.

Tilting his head to the side, he extended his neck while calling out to the dressmaker. "And Madame, could you bring out expensive lace and satin?"

"Oui, oui!" she yelled back.

Turning to face Henri, Bella held back on hitting him out of the anger that instantly devoured her. "Have. You. Gone. Mad? I cannot afford such luxuries! Henri, you know I do not make much income as a singer. Why would you tell her to bring out what I am unable to pay for?"

Just then the dressmaker arrived, armful of fabric swatches, rolls and wheels of assorted lace.

"I have an idea! I have a beautiful green satin that would spill beautifully over your petite frame. May I show you the color?" the dressmaker asked.

Sighing, Bella felt defeated.

"Yes, please do show us. I'm sure the color will be divine against her skin," Henri replied. "Bella? Aren't Edward's eyes green? You two will look stunning next to each other. Yes, Madame. A green gown would be wonderful! And Madame, please put this on my tab. I will send my fiance over..." Henri stopped.

"What did you just say?" Bella said. Her eyes became wild, and her eyebrows cocked in confusion.

"Which part?" Henri replied teasingly.

"Which part? Henri, all of it!" Bella yelled.

"I will pay for your gown. You deserve it..."

"Stop Henri. Why do I deserve it? I have done nothing to deserve such an expensive gift." A vision of Bella's mother and her need to have men buy her extravagant gifts clouded Bella's judgment.

"For being brave. For being you. You have worked hard to come out from beneath your mother and you are doing very well. I know you have doubts about Edward, but all will reveal itself in time. It will be, or it will cease to exist. There is no compromise. So please allow me to buy this gown for you and if you must do something for me in return, allow me to paint you while you are singing."

Bella smiled. "Henri..." the tears began to flow. "A painting of me is the most treasured gift you could give me." Wiping her eyes, she nodded her approval.

The dressmaker stood still, confounded by the generosity of the eccentric artist. "That is very kind of you, Henri. Please, have a seat over there while I take some measurements of the young woman," the dressmaker said, pointing to a sofa near the front panel window.

"Oh, but of course. Do not mind me," Henri called back as he headed toward the seating area.

Taking out her tape measure, the dressmaker escorted Bella to a large framed mirror. "Please hold your arms out, Madame."

"Henri!" Bella yelled.

"Yes, Bella." Henri replied with an even tone.

"Do not think I have forgotten about your slip of the tongue. I want to hear all the details of your engagement." Bella added.

"Yes, dear." Henri answered matter of fact.

"And do not pretend that you are not thrilled to tell me all about it!"

Henri sat nervously, his mind wandering off. Riddled with concerns, he began to ponder the future. As he massaged his forehead, the bell to the front door chimed.

"Bonjour, Mrs. Rousseau. I'm here for my fitting."

Bella instinctively turned toward the sound of the voice, only to see Tanya, the woman that Edward had an arrangement with, standing in the storefront. The two exchanged glances until Tanya noticed Henri, walking over to greet him. "Bonjour, Henri," she whispered, while leaning in and giving a kiss upon each cheek. "And what are the two of you doing here?"

"The same as you," Henri replied, his mind still wandering elsewhere.

Tanya glared at Bella passively. "Bonjour, Bella."

Bella did not say a word and returned her gaze to the mirror in front of her, staring blankly at her own reflection. She knew that she had no right to hold such jealousies over Edward's previous affairs, but her heart had a mind of its own. Bella's insecurities would surface as anger and rage, and in this moment she felt her animosity building. How she wished to grab hold of Tanya, tie her to the chair and demand that she never speak Edward's name again.

Slithering in beside her, Tanya stood inches behind her, the two women staring into the looking glass. "I know you think that I have some hidden agenda to steal Edward from you. Far from the truth. But, do not think that he is yours alone."

Bella turned toward the dressmaker. "Excuse me. May I have a word with this young lady?"

"But of course. I'll... just keep company with Henri. Take your time Madame." The dressmaker hurried quickly afraid that at any moment, a wheel of lace would hit her in the head, thrown with intentions of hitting the other young woman. She was pleased when she had made it to the empty seat near Henri, unscathed.

"Merci," Bella replied, speaking to the dressmaker's back as the husky woman retreated immediately. Turning her attention back to Tanya, her hands on her hips, Bella demanded she continue. "No more riddles, Tanya. Say what you mean."

"Oh, stop already. You have to know what I'm talking about." Tanya insisted.

"Tanya..."

"What do you two do with your time together? Make love? Well, the same could have been said about my relationship with him. In fact, the same could be said about all of his past lovers."

"What past lovers?"

"Don't be naïve, girl. Do you mean to tell me you think he's special? That he will change his selfish ways for you? Bella, he's arrogant and conceited. He cares for no one but himself. I am not threatening you, I am simply warning you."

"They are but the same." Bella said, as casually as possible.

"Really? Is that what you think? You believe I want Edward for myself... So I can exist in misery, never to wed, never to have children? Then you are a fool. You will see soon enough. You are just an arrangement..."

"What did you say?"

"I said you are merely a lover of convenience. He will tire of you like he did the others."

Bella could not hide her distress any more; the tears sprang forward as she ran past Tanya, exiting the dress shop. The bell chimed, alerting Henri to the argument. He left to follow Bella without excusing himself, leaving the dressmaker flustered at the altercation.

Reaching the corner, Bella took a moment to catch her breath, her body convulsing from a volatile mixture of despair and anger. Coming up from behind her, Henri called out with trepidation. "Please wait Bella. Please, wait. I cannot run any further, if you leave. My leg is starting to hurt."

Facing Henri, Bella became apologetic. "Oh, Henri. I am sorry. I did not mean for you to chase me. I just... I just hate her... I hate her with all my heart." She began to pull the loose strands of hair that had stuck among her wet tears.

Henri took a moment to catch his own breath, holding his hand extended toward Bella. "It's quite alright, Bella. Just do not run off again. My legs will be the death of me, and right now, my left leg is in immense pain.

"Now, what did this girl say to make you so upset?"

"She is simply a monster, cruel and unkind. She pretends that she does not want to hurt me, but in one word, she has caused me..." The tears once again began to well up in Bella's eyes. Could she be so blind toward Edward? Her feelings were becoming conflicted, turning against her lover. "She said I was merely an arrangement. The same word Edward used to describe Tanya. Could it be coincidence, Henri? Could it?"

Henri, now recovered, solemnly pondered her words. Once again, he began to rub his forehead, massaging a migraine that threatened to take hold of him. Shaking his head, he offered his reprise, "No Bella. I think you may be right. I do not think it is a coincidence."

Bella deep inside hoped Henri would argue Edward's point, but like a wilted rose, withered when he agreed. She could feel her lungs begin to collapse inward, as she became unsure of herself, of Edward. Whispering, "Do you think he loves me?"

"Bella...," Henri said apathetically.

"Henri, please be truthful!" Bella yelled back. She was prepared to hear the worst, and should Henri tell her in all honesty Edward did not love her, then she would leave him. Her relationship hung on the very next words of her beloved neighbor... Her confident... A man who could see both sides, for he was a spectator to a game of chance and romance.

"I am going to be a father." Henri said, his eyes glistening with pride, a sniffle holding back weeks of turmoil and emotion.

Bella froze in utter shock. Stammering for words, she began to stutter. "Whaaa... Whaaa... Henri!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Lunging forward, she grabbed his cane, throwing her arms around him. Bella had a firm grip on Henri, and rightfully so, for his body nearly folded, confessing his secret that held so many fears.

Crying into his shoulder, Bella felt wicked. For in his hour of need, she had become consumed with such frivolous affairs. Her dear friend, the one that she had come to truly love, was creating life of his own. Bella became ashamed of her actions, "Oh, Henri... Can you forgive me?"

With her words, Henri began to sob equally, "I already have, my dear friend, I already have."

The two held each other, both allowing their emotions to drench the other. Though Bella still had concerns for Edward, she knew as Henri said, all will reveal itself in time. And for Henri, each day of what should be a wonderful and blessed experience, only brought worry and distress as he thought about their growing child; would it be healthy? Henri pulled away, wiping away the tears. "I'm such a blubbering fool, look at me?" he said to no one, to anyone.

Bella too, began to wipe at her eyes. "You are beautiful, Henri. Inside and out." Smiling, she began to laugh, for no apparent reason. As Henri too began to snicker, off in the distance stood a handsome man watching their interaction.

Jacob was shopping at a nearby music store when he witnessed a young woman tear out of a shop at the other end of the block. Jacob stopped, thinking the woman looked eerily familiar. Concerned, he stood patiently as he watched a man, Henri, he recognized, hobble out after the woman. Within that moment, he knew the tormented woman was Bella. He wanted to close the distance and offer to help Henri console her, but he knew it was not his place. He wondered if her tears were because of Edward. Silently, he threatened to have words with the writer if Edward had done anything to hurt Bella. It was not until she noticed him, did he realize he was standing there, fists tightened in anger. Embarrassed, he waived.

Bella was taken off guard when the man in the distance raised his hand. Her eyes widened, as her focus became clearer. It was Jacob, and he had observed her breakdown. She feared he would say something to the other employees at the club, and though their friendship started strong, weakened every time Edward was near. She wondered if she should walk over to him, explain to him briefly that she was upset at the dressmaker, and lie accordingly. As she stood staring at Jacob, waiving back, Henri stood holding his leg in pain.

"Henri, will you be alright? I want to say hello to Jacob before I return to Mrs. Rousseau."

Henri looked at Bella suspiciously, "I'll be fine. Go... Go and say hello to Jacob."

Bella kissed Henri on the cheek, oblivious to the pain he was enduring. While watching Bella walk toward Jacob, Henri wondered what the young man's intentions were. Holding onto his leg, he began to slowly walk back to the dress shop. Pulling open the door, the bell chiming, Henri peered once again at the young musician in the distance, "Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps." Henri shook his head in disapproval. There was something about Jacob that Henri did not agree with... Believing in the symbolism of dreams, he remembered one that he had several weeks ago about the young man. It involved him returning back to America... A large vessel... Sinking... Henri is an observer to the wreckage... Bella is aboard the ship.

Henri shuddered at the memory.

**~o~**

**Author's Notes**: The line "Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps," is from Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing III, i, 106.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the copyrights to the Twilight saga, only the original content of my stories and all original characters.

**Credit**: As always, I adore my editor and cheerleader, Evenflo78. Without her encouraging words... I would be lost in translation. And of course, I love my husband for always taking time out to read each chapter, offering his opinions and edits. They are my team.

**Author's Notes:** I do apologize for being untimely with my chapters, RL has been very busy for me. But now that my daughters are done with their Cheerleading season, as of this last weekend. I can finally write! Mes excuses les plus sincères , my sincerest apologies. I should be able to update very soon.

And to my new readers, merci, thank you.

~o~

As the day neared its end, Henri had been most felicitous in assisting Bella with matters of the heart. Initially, he had hoped to take her to a grand museum, peruse the neoclassical gallery, and awe in the details of the lavish checkerboard paving, frescoes ceilings, and molded sculptures that lined each archway, its mass aged and old, rich in history.

But after the altercation with Tanya, Henri had become drained of energy and the distance bore something difficult, as the pain in his leg began to consume his being. Yet, he did not want to take Bella home and end her venture on such a trivial matter. For he knew too often, a single word could influence an eternity.

Opting for a smaller museum nearby, Henri pulled out a bottle of pain killers, popping a pill dry into his mouth.

"Putain la douleur," the fucking pain, Henri muttered.

Unaware, Bella blindly followed Henri, her gaze trailing the edge of the sidewalk, the stark gentrification of the area apparent as Bella's feet glided over deteriorated chips of worn concrete.

Her mind lay fragmented in a thousand pieces.

Upon the edge of a cemetery, Bella finally tore her eyes from the ground; she gazed upward to see a tall, halfmoon gateway, beyond it, a pasture full of peaceful monoliths. It is another world; a map of decayed mausoleums lining a twisting pathway of pavers.

"Mon cheri, this place is beautiful," Bella said her voice faint and trailing, afraid of breaking the silence of those listening perpetually.

"It is. It's why I decided to take this shortcut. Yet, I find that no matter how many times I walk these grounds, I always forget where it was that I was headed to." Spinning to meet Bella's gaze, Henri extended his hand. "It's the perfect locale for a stroll. You can never be troubled by a symphony of cypresses."

Laughing, Bella responded. "Is that all you see?" Stepping forward, Bella became childlike, eager to read the scripts, to discover hidden stories inscribed forever in marble.

Running past Henri, she urged him to keep up, but slowed as she came upon a small angel, its wing broken from years of neglect. Bending down to brush the dead leaves from a nearby poplar tree, Bella began to read the stone.

**HERE LIES GABRIELLA JOUHANDEAU**

**APRIL 7, 1788-MAY 26, 1789**

**Thy giveth life, and thy taketh,**

**And with each ounce of soil, a piece of my flesh is with you.**

"Henri, which angel is this?" Bella asked, her fingers trailing the edge of the cherub's wing.

Slowly ascending the terrace behind her, Henri took a moment to catch his breath. "Let me see. I believe it to be St. Matthew. They often depict him as an angel."

"Sad," Bella replied, "That her parents had to bury her alone, and yet, where are they?"

Looking back at Henri, she noticed him smiling, his face revealing his amusement. "What is so funny? It is sad! Where are her parents buried?"

Holding his hands up, Henri replied, "I am not laughing at you, I am simply noticing something. Of all the stones, you are drawn to the tiniest and most unassuming. Why is that?"

"I... don't know. Maybe since you told me you are going to be a father, I have children on my mind. Is it wrong for me to be jealous of you?"

Henri shook his head modestly, "Not all my dear, not at all." Leaning over to kiss Bella on the crown, he whispered, "but you must walk through glass, before you are rewarded."

Bella stood, nearly falling back down from a flush of blood that rushed her head. She steadied herself, placing a hand on Henri's shoulder. As the two walked through the mysterious pathways, a sense of calm overcame the two; their troubles dissipating in the silence of the tombs. Upon their exit, Henri muttered while turning back toward the cemetery, "The dead sleep well, their torment, dust upon their brittle bones."

As they came upon the small building, Bella noticed the ominous black door, an entrance that proved to be uninviting, yet once opened, a world of modern art beckoned for them to lay eyes upon them. In fact, the small chamber was filled to capacity with an eccentric collection of pieces. Bella found herself blushing from this month's theme: eroticism.

Some sculptures were simply obscene, men intertwined, bent over and yielding, while others were satirical, pencil sketches of women working in brothels, their bodies a fleshy display of shoulders, neck and bosom; yet their faces, worn, tired and sad.

Near the back corner, Bella found a small area dedicated to Henri and his portraits. Among the various adaptations of sex, Bella found Henri's pieces masterful and unique, spotlighting the dancers performing the infamous cancan; their bloomers exposed, their skin, delicate with a hint of sweat. She glossed over the images with her finger, picturing the women and their plights. Who were they? Did she know them? Were they ever in love? Bella stood in front of Henri's paintings and devoured their stories. One day, her moment would be captured for all to admire... Many years from now, would there be a young woman in love, delicately pondering over a painting of Bella?

A tear fell from her cheek as her emotion squeezed at her heart.

When they left, the two sat quietly in the courtyard of the petit museum taking in the tranquil sounds of the fountain and small birds that bathed within it. The late afternoon sun warmed the north facade, creating an area for both Henri and Bella to lay siesta-style, studying the flocks of people as they passed the open rod iron gates.

Their day adieu, their body and mind had been overwhelmed by emotion. Yet, in the late afternoon, two friends pondered life and love. Could ever a moment be more perfect? Bella prayed silently for more, while a poplar leaf fell onto Henri's lap.

~o~

The crowd roared as the dancers commanded the dance floor; the air thick with possibility. Yet, a violent storm ravaged Paris, the sound of wind and rain creating a sense of despondency.

It had been weeks since Bella ordered her dress, but now taut against her curves, lay yards of fine emerald silk. With the weather clearly affecting everyone's mood, Bella stood gazing at her own reflection in the dressing room, she felt a shadow of her former self.

"You look gorgeous, now get out there!" yelled Jacob, as he ran by.

Bella turned, but there was no one in sight, only an empty door frame; beyond it, a room of noise, music, patrons of all walks, yet inside her dressing quarters, just thoughts and emotions. Remembering that she had promised Henri she would periodically check on Marie, Bella gasped as she looked at the clock. Though Marie was with child, she continued to work, claiming the excessive walking was good exercise and healthy for their baby.

Racing around the corner, Bella peered into the grand room. In the corner, away from the rougher crowds, stood Marie, her hand on her belly, the other politely on the shoulder of an older gentleman; her laughter, a sign that she was in good spirit and not ill, as she had been the previous week.

Bella let out a sigh of relief, feeling an overwhelming sense of loyalty to the infant that lay within its mother. She would do anything for the child, even if she had not met it yet.

In the distance, Henri assembled his easel, set to sketch his promised portrait of Bella. Sitting patiently in a chair, he now became an observer, a master of depicting real life, even down to a freckle on a woman's inner thigh.

Looking at his blank canvas, he peered to the right, taking in the scenery. In front of him, a large room, its walls and warped wooden floors soaked with shrills of indecency. In this state of being, everyone became anonymous, only their soul exposed. If you recognized your soul in his paintings, then you knew you were a part of his original work.

Near the rear, the musicians. Like Koi fish, they opened their mouths, applause was as food. Henri smiled as he thought of this.

Then... He found his dear friend, Edward. Henri pondered his expression, and without Bella present, began to sketch furiously, his hands rapid, his uncontrollable tendency to capture raw emotion fueling his limbs, his mind, and his fingers.

Time stood still in these moments when Henri became possessed, but as the prince kissed the princess, awakening from her eternal sleep, a voice rang out and Henri blinked, now aware of his surroundings. It was Bella. And her soft, yet powerful voice cried out. Henri turned his attention to capturing her essence, and again his fingers moved with a freedom that his legs would never be privy to.

For the rest of the evening, he drew feverishly, only breaking once to use the restroom. Henri had a remarkable gift, and had an uncanny ability to remember a moment, his mind filling in the details later in his apartment.

By the time that Henri was pleased with what he had sketched, the club was now in its final stages of closing, a tired Marie sitting on a chair near her fiancé.

"Good night, Bella." Jacob said as he walked past Bella and Edward, the two men locking eyes for one brief moment.

"Bonne Nuit," Bella responded, her body twitching from the awkwardness.

Edward smitten, smoldering from Jacob's callous behavior and clear attempt to make him jealous, proved only fuel for fire, as he held Bella close, his lips grazing the edge of her neck as they walked.

"Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?" Edward whispered, his lips still touching.

"Actually, no you didn't. But thank you. I suppose, better late than never," Bella teased.

Sighing, Edward responded. "I always deliver, even if it is late."

Bella wanted to strangle Edward for his obscene comments, but she loved them just the same. He was a drug to her, and she had become an addict, his words like hits of opium, his touches, like being reclined in a "flower house", a den of opium swirling, intoxicating.

When they returned to Edward's apartment, their love making became urgent. He sucked on her lips, drawing on her energy, his sex thrusting deep into her belly. Edward had broken her innocence once, and this, her body remembered, her inner lips moistened with intent. Whatever the day brought, was erased for hours on end with Edward's desire.

Bella was the first to climax, but held her precious love tight against her. Lifting her hips to meet his thrusts, Edward delivered his seed, a small cry escaping his parted mouth.

He collapsed onto the bed, his panting subsiding as he closed his eyes. For quite some time, the two laid still, both nearly falling asleep till Edward decided to break the silence, sensing something amiss.

"What's wrong mon amour? You seem distant." Edward stated, his hand casually stroking through Bella's hair. "Did I hurt you tonight?" he asked.

Bella's body felt fatigued, but her mind awake, reveling in the details of her confrontation with Tanya. Though time had passed, Bella never forgot those words... _lover of convenience_. And they haunted her, vexed her, and pierced her each moment she spent with him.

Edward's voice registered as noise, but her soul thirsted for silence.

Contorted, Bella pivoted onto her side, staring aimlessly at Edward, almost through him. Her eyes followed his facial features, imagining how he came to have each fine wrinkle that creased by his eyelids when he smiled. His jaw line, hard-edged and aggressive, but ironically, his lips were soft, gentle, promising.

"Do you ever think about the future?" Bella whispered. Her casualness provoked by her desire to know more.

Sighing, Edward sensed a deeper intention behind her question. "I don't know. Sometimes." His response, short and indifferent.

"Edward," Bella began, "Why do you do this to me?" The tears held back by her will to be strong.

Sitting up, Edward became defensive, almost threatened by Bella's demands. "What do you want from me Bella? You have all I can give you? Between you and my writing, there's nothing left of me. It's like being in a vacuum," he started shouting.

Alert, Bella sat up to meet Edward. Her emotions and feelings for Edward, violently turning bitter. But in this moment, Bella would use her anger to accost him, force him to explain... to confess... to succumb.

"Don't you yell at me, Edward. I have done nothing wrong to warrant your frustration." Gripping at her hair, it took every cell in her body to keep her from ripping it out, her hormones surging. "So making love is all I'm good for? You can't indulge me," Her words bellowing, "in a simple fucking conversation about the future!"

Weakened, Edward softened, apologizing for his outburst but the damage was irreversible. "I'm sorry Bella, I'm just... my writing..."

Leaning in, Bella placed both hands lightly on Edward's cheeks, her forehead falling against his. "It's not an excuse, Edward. You can't do that. You can't shut me out and blame your aloofness on writing. Edward, I want to marry you. Have children with you. Grow old with you. But I can't love enough for two, I just can't. If you don't... love me... let me go, Edward." Her voice falling short of a murmur. "Tell me you love me."

Edward closed his eyes, his tears hidden. Reaching up, clasping Bella's hands, he spoke... his response barely inaudible, his lips gingerly caressing her lobe.

Yet... Bella heard. Her face pained and twisted, her heart spilling in droplets.

~o~

**Author's Notes: **The infamous whisper. My favorite scene has to be the ending of "Lost In Translation", with Bill Murray leaning in and whispering something inaudible to Scarlett Johansson. What I love about that, is that we as the viewers, or in this case, the readers, are not privy to those words. Yet they mean so much...


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the copyrights to the Twilight saga, only the original content of my stories and all original characters.

**Credit**: As always, I adore my editor and cheerleader, Evenflo78. Without her encouraging words... I would be lost in translation. And of course, I love my husband for always taking time out to read each chapter, offering his opinions and edits. They are my team.

**Author's Notes:** I had watched a show on cocktails and an interesting note was the idea that artists envisioned green fairies while consuming absinthe due to the turpentine on their hands. Apparently it caused a chemical reaction that created hallucinations. And with that….

~o~

As Edward and Henri sat upon the balcony, they peered out into the black of the night, their vision grainy and blurred.

With a bottle of Absinthe in one hand, a glass in the other, Edward poured the peacock elixir down Henri's throat, a waterfall of alcohol cascading down his neck. Laughing sinisterly, Edward fell forward onto Henri's lap, "You…. aaarrrreee." Then stopping mid sentence, he sat back up, his eyes closed, his head swaying to and fro. "My friend."

Henri, who was in far better shape than his counterpart, smiled, his hand flapping in the air. "And you… I feel the same," he responded, drunkenly.

Snapping from his stupor, Edward stood still, his attention focused on Henri's face. "I want to kisssss you on your face because you are my ffrriiiend."

Quick to react, Henri placed both his hands in front of his lips. "You said that already, a kiss is not necessary."

Edward shook his head, refusing to take 'no' for an answer but suddenly became distracted and instead begged Henri to smell his hands. "Mmm, they smell good."

"Edward, it's the turpentine. Did you like the painting lesson I gave you?"

Edward simply inhaled his own hands once again, nodding.

"Very good. I'm happy that I could share some of my talent with someone just as equally talented as you."

Henri then looked out over the veranda, watching the billowing smoke and ash rise above the weathered buildings. Sitting back, he allowed inebriation to strip his body of pain, discomfort, and any other plagues. Looking back at Edward, he was about to discuss Bella, but noticed him staring intently.

"What is shhhheee doing here?" Edward asked, repulsed.

Henri contorted his face in confusion, "Who?"

Pointing a wandering finger in Henri's direction, Edward edged forward on his chair. "Thaaat lady! Or is she one?" He began to snicker at his own assertion.

Henri, still confused, peered behind him to only see darkness. Turning back around, he questioned his drunken companion, doing his best as well to speak coherently. "Edward, may I ask? What lady?"

Edward let out a long sigh. "That fairyish monster flying next to you. She keeps asking me questions!" he yelled.

Henri's eyes widened.

_Tsk, Tsk mon amour. He cannot see me, as you do. _

"Stop it! Stop talking to me!" Edward said, as he closed his eyes and covered his ears. He could feel Henri lean forward, and gently stroke at his arm.

_Edward. Why do you tease Bella. It's been months since you two had a real conversation. If you do not love her, let her go. _

Swaying with his eyes still closed, Edward began to murmur. "But I do… I love her."

_Idiot, you whispered those words once. How is she to know what will come of it? _

Henri could see something more intense was taking place than merely visions of a green fairy. Edward was having a deep and dark discussion with his conscience, a battle of his own will. Henri pursed his lips in understanding. He too, has had many nights alone with the fairy, her repeated attempts to drive men mad, bruising their ego, forcing them to look within. He decided to allow Edward his moment, and sat back, trying his best to decipher the one-sided conversation.

Tensing his entire face, Edward blurted out his anger. "What the fuucck do you want me to do about it?"

_Vas te faire encule, fuck you, Edward. You are the one that is leading her on, denying her a true relationship. Why, just this very minute, Jacob is happily escorting Bella home, while you, twit, are sitting here intoxicated. _

"It's my best friend's…," Edward wiped at his face, "Bachelor party. He's to be married. Is that alright with you, fucking… pixie…. bitch!"

Henri slightly jumped from Edward's last words, the tone of his voice, petty and bitter. As his fairy often spoke in long and elaborate conversations, he could only imagine what Edward's fairy sounded like.

_Edward be honest with yourself. You adore her, physically. But she wants more. You give her just a taste hoping it will satisfy her. _

"I'm not ready for marriage."

Henri began to listen intently. He felt like a spy, confused by his loyalty to both of his dear friends.

_The musician loves her too. Besides, will you even stay? Do you not bore writing for the newspaper? _

"It pays the bills. All of it. How do you think I afford my apartment?"

_But does it feed your soul? Do you feel passion for it?_

Grunting, Edward responded. "Of course not!"

It would be another hour of this lopsided argument that would finally force Henri to interject and beg to retreat to his bed. Since Edward had invited Henri over for drinks, he felt obligated to allow him to sleep it off in his sleeping quarters. Assisting Henri under the covers, he apologized for his odd behavior, to which Henri quickly responded.

"Edward, you needn't be sorry. I have seen the green fairy many times in my life. It is not her presence that concerns me." Turning over to his side, he whispered, "It was what she asked, that I am worried about. Did she bring up Bella?"

Edward took off his brown ankle boots and carefully removed his sock suspenders and socks. Placing them aside, he stripped his outer clothing and remained in his undergarments. He felt no shame sharing a bed with his good friend, but only shame for his unloving thoughts and behavior.

Lying back upon the mattress, Edward stared at the worn ceiling above, counting the water stains that were strewn across the plaster. With Henri on his side facing out toward the balcony, the two men remained drunk, but wide awake with their suspicions.

"Are you happy about getting married tomorrow?" Edward asked.

A slight snicker escaped Henri's lips. "Of course, Edward. There are far worse things than marriage."

"Like what?"

"Like death, Edward. I think about death all the time. I dream about it in my sleep, it haunts every twinge of pain that my body inflicts upon me. Oh believe me, my friend. Marriage is bliss. Death… Death is eternally silent."

"And why is that bad?"

Turning to face Edward, Henri became slightly perturbed. "Edward, I've allowed you to be naive this far, but not now. Not tonight. Not on the eve of my marriage. Do you know that my family knows nothing of my life?"

"I'm sorry, Henri. I forgot about your mother. What will she do if she finds out?"

Sighing, Henri responded. "I don't know. She most definitely would not approve of Marie. Why just the fact that she is pregnant, would send my mother into a rage. I truly fear for my child. If something should happen to me, Edward."

Edward sat up attentively, a moment of clarity upon him. "Nothing is going to happen. Got that?" He demanded.

Again, Henri let out a deep and long breath that he had been holding. "I would not be so sure about that. But, I will take your comment to heart and thank you for your concern.

"Now, enough about my worries. What about you? I heard you mention that you are not ready to marry. Elaborate."

"I don't know Henri. I love Bella. I really think I do. It's just that… I see myself traveling… Writing from exotic places. Why just the other day, I got a telegram from an old school friend. He's been living in Africa, and he's got some wild idea about venturing to this place they call the Congo. Says he's got a story brewing… Something about a heart of darkness." Edward said, excitedly. "I want to go there, Henri. I want to travel to Africa. Get away from all this bourgeois crap. Write about things that haven't even been discovered. I don't know. Write about a fucking Lion destroying a whole village. What do you think?"

"Edward, you know what I think. But it doesn't matter. If I tell you I think you should settle here in Paris, marry Bella. The whole affair would end tragically. I know you're not happy here. I could see it on your face when I painted Bella."

"Henri, I have to do this."

"I know."

"Will you tell Bella for me?"

At that very moment, Henri's heart melted; inebriated by Absinthe, ravaged by pain. Yet all of that did not matter… For the pain that Bella would suffer, would be threefold. Henri closed his eyes, his lids pushing out a tear. "Please give me another month. Let Marie get out of her first trimester."

Edward did not respond. He felt exhilarated, but desperate. His heart wanted the woman, but his mind wanted the world. But obligated to his career, he promised himself right then… He would leave.

~o~

**Author's Notes: **Edward references a "friend" in Africa that is writing a novel. For those who are not familiar, "Heart of Darkness" was published in 1902 (though it appeared as a 3 part series in a magazine in 1899) by Joseph Conrad. It is a highly acclaimed piece of literary work and captures an era gone by.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the copyrights to the Twilight saga, only the original content of my stories and all original characters.

**Credit**: As always, I adore my editor and cheerleader, Evenflo78. Her encouraging comments, always help me understand my own writing. And for that, I encourage every writer to get a trusted reader, editor, or willing friend. And of course, I love my husband for always taking time out to read each chapter, offering his opinions and edits. They are my team.

**~o~**

With each setting sun, Henri's heart bled. He knew it was only a matter of time before Edward would leave for Africa, abandoning Bella to her limitless thoughts of what might have been. He went over the impending conversation with her a thousand times in his mind; each word thoughtfully chosen. Yet, his biggest fear remained in what he failed to sense, or see. In Bella, the tide had changed, and as if she knew what was imminent, her temper quelled. Bella stopped questioning Henri about her relationship concerns and Henri could only take this silence, as a sign of defeat.

Lost in his thoughts, a knock on the door woke him to reality. He sighed heavily, as he welcomed a very enthusiastic Bella into his home.

"Bonjour, Henri," she said, cheerfully.

"Bonjour, Bella," he replied.

Standing with her hands on her hips, Bella began to tease and scold Henri. "You have kept me from my painting long enough, Monsieur. It's been more than two weeks... Why, it's been over a month, Henri! Please, I'm restless. I don't care if you are not finished. I just want to take a peek. It's the only thing that I have to look forward to...," Bella stopped mid-sentence. In the awkward moment, her last words suspended in an air of desperation.

But Marie, who had been in the garden enjoying her morning tea, walked in smiling, almost humming, as she caressed her slightly swollen belly that had grown in the last month. There was a fondness in her touch that soothed both her and her premature baby.

When she shut the door behind her, she jumped, slightly startled by Bella. "Oh, Bella! I wasn't expecting you. Forgive me; I have nothing to offer you. Would you like me to make some coffee?"

"Sit, sit, Marie. I'm fine. I just came to harass your fiancé and beg him to show me the portrait. He's been working on it forever!"

Confused, Marie quickly glanced at Henri, only to turn away abruptly at the flash of guilt that swept across his face.

"I see. I'll just leave you two alone to work this out. I think I will say hello to our new friend, Jasper." Placing her hands near her mouth, Marie began to whisper. "You know. He sleeps at Alice's apartment every night." Laughing at her own gossip, Marie excused herself and kissed Henri on her way out.

Once again, Bella found herself alone with Henri and began to look around the small and cluttered apartment.

"I do admit Marie has been doing a wonderful job of keeping your home organized." Though her eyes appeared to be observing the details of his cramped suite, Bella secretly looked for her portrait.

"Yes, she's very worried about raising a child in such a small space, but it is my world; chaotic as it may seem." Henri replied.

Bella tried her best to listen, but spotted a large canvas hidden under a sheet near the far corner of the suite.

"What painting is that?" Bella asked, as she walked over to the covered piece.

"Bella, wait!" Henri called out, his hand extended, unaware that she had been searching the room.

Uncovering the canvas, Bella's expression turned to joy as she discovered it was indeed, her portrait. Kneeling, so she could get a better look at the painting, she began to lightly touch the raised sections of dried oils. "It's magnificent, Henri," she said softly.

Henri did not reply, but instead walked over to a stool, sitting upon it, waiting eagerly for Bella's interpretation of his art.

Looking back, Bella questioned his silence. "What's wrong, Henri?" Why are you so worried? It's stunning, I love it!"

Henri's face strained to smile, but instead nodded in agreement. He knew his demeanor was odd and strange, yet he worried that Bella would see something else hidden in the picture.

Turning her attention back to the portrait, Bella laughed off Henri's concerns. "Well, I don't know why you wouldn't let me see this. I think it's just marvelous, Henri. Simply marvelous. And I'm not saying that because it's a painting of me... It's really your finest work!" But as Bella continued to gaze at the details before her, things began to become clearer, less obscure. She could see minuscule elements come alive, and the background seemed to jump through the canvas.

In the center floor, Bella's dress swayed, its brilliant emerald color moved like kelp floating on the surface of the ocean. To the left of the piece, the sounds of glasses clinking, and laughter transcribed through every crest of color. Why even Marie took on movement in the painting; a glow becoming more apparent, which created a halo effect near her face. And the orchestra blared its music; musicians moving to and fro. Bella found Jacob with a warm hue, a smile and gaze directed at the woman in green; his mouth coveted his instrument, but his heart leaped from the notes he projected to the singer in front of him.

Biting her lip in anticipation, Bella looked for Edward until she found him; alone at a table, the man that looked like her lover sat with his back toward the performer. Bella had never noticed this in real life, and continued to stare at the ghost of a man before her. And just as an idea is planted like a seed... Bella's smile and glee for the painting began to fade. There was the truth, captured forever in poppy seed and safflower oil. For the first time, she was truly seeing Edward's soul.

Bella shuddered as she stood up and walked over to Henri, thanking him for the beautiful painting. She asked forgiveness for peeking too soon, and assured him he needn't hurry and to take his time with the canvas.

Before the tears could come, Bella ran out of the apartment, down the cobblestone driveway, and out the rod iron gate.

Henri sat silent, stunned by Bella's departure. He hated the spectacle Edward had turned her into. But there was nothing he could do, for the events needed to transpire, whatever path being revealed. Slowly, he slid off the stool with a twinge of pain searing his leg, and walked over to the painting that he had been dreading to reveal.

"I shall call this piece, 'a tragedy', a portrait of a happy woman singing her affections, while her lover drinks in the distance, his head titled down, his hand gripping tightly to his crutch. His face... despair." Henri shook his head and covered the piece back up with the sheet, placing it behind several other finished paintings. "And there you shall rest," he added.

The more Bella ran, the freer she began to feel. She allowed her feet to take her anywhere they wanted to go, but ironically were drawn to a red building, the wooden windmill on the roof top creeping slowly with each gust.

In the day, the building took on an unimpressive and quiet stance; any light from its windows lost by the sun's exposure. She thought to herself, why even Moulin Rouge had an alternate personality, a disorder with its true identity.

As she walked up to the front door, she noticed it slightly ajar. Pushing it open, she saw Mr. Oller leaning over crates of alcohol. A large shipment from America had arrived, bringing in different varieties of whiskey. With a clip board in his hand, a pen tucked neatly behind his hear, Mr. Oller looked giddy, like a kid who had just opened his first Christmas present.

"Bonjour, Mr. Oller," Bella called out.

"Bella, what are you doing here?" Mr. Oller said, while looking down at his pocketwatch. "It's pretty early for you to be showing up to work. You are off the clock, are you not?" He said laughing. Dropping his clip board on one of the crates, he stood up and waived Bella in. "Come, I'm joking. What can I help with you with?"

Twisting her fingers in anxiety, Bella didn't quite know what she needed _help_ with, but she did know without a doubt, she did not want to be at home sulking.

"Do you mind if I just hang around here for awhile? I promise not to be in your way."

"Bella, but of course. Moulin Rouge is your second home, come anytime you need her."

Bella sniffled, as she smiled. "Thank you."

"Now, you don't mind if I get back to work, do you? I have to put these bottles away before the vultures realize it's American. You know these snobby patrons of ours, they won't drink it!"

Bella shook her head while smiling. As she watched him bend back down and grab his paperwork, she realized how much she had underestimated the old man. She had always taken him for a womanizer, someone who took advantage of women that were desperate, in need of work. With nowhere to turn, many ended up being dancers or hostesses in the many dark and dank clubs of the night. Yet, in all the time Mr. Oller had employed Bella, he never once threatened her, spoke down to her, or even yelled at her. In fact, Bella was starting to realize, it was not Moulin Rouge that needed these women to succeed. It was these women, who needed Moulin Rouge... to _live._

Exhausted from running, Bella began to walk slowly through the empty room, thinking how decayed and lifeless the bar felt in the day. Taking an empty seat at Henri's table, Bella had barely settled in when she screamed from an unfamiliar hand around her waist.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to say hello. I didn't mean to make you scream." Jacob said, apologetically.

Bella gripped at her chest.

"Bella, are you okay? Seriously, I am sorry. I really didn't mean to scare you. I didn't realize you were that..."

"That what?" Bella added, irritated.

"Jumpy," Jacob said, not missing a beat.

"You call being startled by a man's hand devilishly around my waist, being jumpy? I will have you..." Bella began to say, as she stood up to argue with Jacob.

"Hold your horses, sweet thing. My words are coming out wrong," he said with hands in a surrender position, "Forgive me, I'm not a writer," he added with a wink.

Bella stared at Jacob, and though she wanted to be upset, unleash some of her pent up energy, she did not want to take it out on him. She let out a long sigh and sat back down, peering back up at Jacob with a quizzical look. "What are you doing here?"

Taking an empty seat across from Bella, Jacob sat, scrunching his face. "I don't know. I come here so I can play my music loudly. I can't do that back at my apartment. Playing helps me think, and lately, I've had a lot on my mind." Leaning his head over, Jacob crossed his arms in front of him, propping his chin on his arms. "I miss home, to be honest. I'm thinking about going back."

Bella's eyes began to widen. "What!"

Jacob smiled, amused at her outburst and sat back up. "What do you mean 'what?' There's nothing here for me. I mean, I thought there would be... And don't get me wrong, this is not about Leah, it's about me..."

Though the two knew each other from Moulin Rouge, Jacob had become more than _the guy who plays in the band_. He kept to himself, and Bella liked that. But when she felt down, needed a word of encouragement; Jacob was always in the right place, at the right time. He seemed to have a knack for conveying just the right advice that Bella not necessarily needed, but wanted to hear. She often thought that most Americans must be good at that.

"What's so good about America? I thought you enjoyed Paris. Why you haven't even been here long enough to hate it."

"Bella, it's not the work, or the club, or the streets, or any one thing I can put my fingers on. It's just... I suppose, I'm just disappointed."

"In what?" she asked, a hint of curiosity to her tone.

"In you," he stated flatly.

Bella felt as if a mound of bricks had fallen on her, smothering her from all directions.

"In me? And what have I done?" she asked.

"The first time I met you... You had such a fire about you... I can remember when you first slapped Edward on this very dance floor. Do you remember that night?"

Bella let her mind wander back to the first day she came upon Moulin Rouge, its patrons, the loud music... the moment she first met Edward.

"I can, and it feels just like yesterday," she whispered.

"Okay, so let me ask you this. You and Edward have been together for quite some time. Do you think he loves you? That he plans to marry you?"

Scowling, Bella responded, "That's a rude question to ask. Of course he loves me."

"Forgive me, of course he loves you. Who wouldn't? But, you didn't answer my second question. Do you think he wants to marry you?"

Bella sat silent pondering his question. "Probably not," she hesitantly replied.

"Then where else can your relationship go?" Jacob asked.

Shaking her head, she knew the answer to his question. She knew it each time _he _lay with her, touched her, whispered to her. She knew it the moment she looked at the painting.

"Nowhere, I suppose. But it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt... I love him too much to let him go."

"Bella..."

"Please Jacob, you don't understand."

"I do understand. Trust me; I understand more than you think."

"Oh really? Explain how?"

"I love you... and that hurts."

Stunned, Bella did not know how to respond.

Holding back tears, Jacob gritted his teeth and tried his best to keep his emotions hidden. He wanted so desperately to take those words back, but a part of his heart felt better letting the words disappear off the tip of his tongue.

The two sat, awkward and unsure.

"Why did you have to ruin this, Jacob? I wanted you so much to be just a friend, a shoulder for me to lean on," Bella said through glazed eyes.

"Bella, it's not like that. You know the first night that you met Edward? That's the first night I knew," Jacob finished with a whisper, "that I loved you."

Bella kept her head down, confused by Jacob's honesty. In a perfect world, she would combine the two men, and live happily ever after. But the reality of it was, Jacob was sincere and would probably marry her, assuring Bella a family and a stable life. Edward however, would probably run off drunk, have an affair and write about her in some scathing novel, revealing all her secrets; words that were only meant for his ears.

Bella without conscience began to analyze Jacob's intentions... as if she were considering a business proposition; questioning his past relationship and its failure.

"What about Leah?" she asked.

"What about her?"

"Did you love her?"

"Bella, I've told you. No, not like that. My parents wanted me to, but in the end, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't marry someone that I wasn't really in love with... And so I fled as far away as I could. But it doesn't mean I don't care about her, trust me, I do. But love... not like that."

Bella thought to herself, how ironic the conversation had become. Jacob spoke of love, but did not want to commit to Leah, for lack of. Yet, he confessed his feelings to Bella, in hopes of what...

"Look, I know you think you don't know me well enough, and we don't spend enough time together. But I see how Edward treats you." Jacob said, his voice sincere, solemn. "But I would never do that to you, Bella. Never." he added with emphasis.

With her eyebrow cocked, Bella timidly asked, "Do what Jacob?"

"Leave you."

"But Edward hasn't left me," she said with desperation.

"But he will."

"Jacob," Bella replied angrily.

"Here me out, Bella... If I leave for America," he added.

"You lied! You just promised me that you wouldn't leave. And now you're speaking about America?"

"Bella, stop. Please just me let me finish."

With her arms crossed, Bella sat, skeptical of Jacob's words. She was beginning to think that all men were mere relationships of convenience.

"Come with me to America. Let me take you away from all this. You're too good for Edward, for the men that come through here. Back in New York, we can find you a more upscale lounge to perform at..."

"Jacob, wait. Are you asking me to marry you, be your wife?"

Laughing, Jacob replied, "Well, hold on. Who said anything about marriage? Bella, I have strong feelings for you; that I'm not going to lie about. But, asking you come to America with me is no strings attached. I promise. I mean... I just want to give you a new life. Maybe I can manage your career or something?"

Bella began to ponder the conversation in its entirety. "But this is my new life?"

"True. You're right, I know you just moved here months ago. But _is_ it the life you wanted? Is it the life you expected? Listen, Bella. You don't have to give me an answer today. Just think about it. I know Edward is still a big part of your decision to stay... But if things don't work out with him... I'll be here waiting, Bella." Jacob stood up abruptly, pushing his chair in. "But I won't be here forever," he added.

**~o~**

**Author's Notes: **The idea that Bella could tell how Edward was feeling, by merely studying a painting of him was inspired by the film, Jerry Maguire. In the movie, Renee Zellweger's character _knew, _the moment she studied the wedding video; the look on Tom Cruise's face, his true feelings about the situation, and specifically, his feelings for her at that moment. Thus, she later ended the marriage.

But we shall see how it plays out for Bella.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the copyrights to the Twilight saga, only the original content of my stories and all original characters.

**Credit**: As always, I adore my editor and cheerleader, Evenflo78. Her encouraging comments, always help me understand my own writing. And for that, I encourage every writer to get a trusted reader, editor, or willing friend. And of course, I love my husband for always taking time out to read each chapter, offering his opinions and edits. They are my team.

**~o~**

Out here in the fields,

I fight for my meals.

I get my back into my living.

I don't need to fight.

To prove I'm right.

I don't need to be forgiven...

The Who, Teenage Wasteland

**~o~**

Things had started to become tense between Edward and Bella; their time spent alone began to feel mechanical, wooden like. There were many unresolved feelings and the two chose to suppress their emotions, lending to the insurmountable distance that began to bore its way between the couple.

It had been days since Jacob and Bella had their conversation, but the idea of a new life took root in Bella's heart. The more she thought of America, the stronger she desired to flee from her past... instinctually she knew, she was not dealing with it correctly, but simply burying it deep within her; for one day the ghosts of her mother and Edward would haunt her and she would have to be strong enough to confront them. But as she reminded herself, not today.

Bella knew it was only a matter of time before Edward left her, or worse, simply admitted that he really never loved her. Many times she wanted to sit him down and confess to him Jacob's proposal. But each moment they spent alone simply became clouded in a storm of sorrow, and Bella could not bring herself to weather the rain. Bella began to even question if Edward would even care if she left, if he would even try and stop her.

In addition, each day brought more misery as Henri became sick, his absence taking with him Bella's confidence. Bella went often to check on him, but was always greeted by Marie at the door, assuring her that Henri was fine and that he needed only a few more days of rest.

Without his reassurance, Bella felt confused and afraid. Yet one evening she was given the sign that she was looking for. A gentleman had offered to buy her a glass of whiskey, and explained to her that he had found out that the liquor was from America, a place that he begged her to visit. He told her of all the wonderful people he had met in an area called Florida, and of the beautiful orange orchards that lined the landscape. Bella sat, intrigued by his tales, and occasionally caught the watchful eye of Jacob; a wink each time he looked her way.

Convinced that she was making the right decision, Bella decided it was time to discuss her future plans with Edward. That night, after they had walked home to his apartment in silence, Bella began to undress as she always did, but was grabbed ferociously by Edward. His hands eagerly cupping her breasts, squeezing them with a veracity that yielded his need to touch her.

Kissing along her neck, his lips softly bit at the raised tendon along her nape, nibbling as he kneaded her torso.

"Edward... You're so forceful tonight... Why the sudden urgency?" Bella asked, her eyes closed in pleasure; for she had missed this side of him, this emotional desire to not only lay with her, but _have_ her.

With labored breath, Edward began to mutter. "I don't know. Even though you're near me, I can't help feeling like I miss you."

Bella said nothing and allowed their bodies to sloppily intertwine, spilling onto the unmade bed; Edward devouring her like a rose vine, engulfing and strangling.

As he entered her, the droplets of sweat already began to form, cascading gently down worn crevices between his eyebrows, permeating the sheets below them.

Bella hungrily begged for more while thrusting her own pelvis hard against his, clawing at his back, as her legs wrapped around his thighs.

The two were immersed in a sea of desperation, lust and anger, pounding at one another for nearly an hour; their climax, intense and almost painful as Bella cried out in pleasure, Edward's eyes tightly closed as his face contorted in bliss.

Settling back down, Edward rolled over onto his side of the bed and simply stared at the ceiling, something that he was quite fond of doing after the two had relations. He found the uneventful gaze, soothing and ironically, calming as he began to gather his thoughts.

Quite opposite, Bella found a renewed energy, and nude, stood up, pacing the small apartment. Taking a seat at Edward's desk, Bella began sifting through the stacks of paper until a handwritten postcard softly glided to the ground. Bending over to pick it up, Bella began to read it.

Suspiciously, Bella looked over at Edward, her eyes demanding and angry. "Edward, what is this?" she asked, accusingly.

Looking back down at the post card in her hands, she blinked through the beginning of tears, as she tried to read the writing. On the cover was a black and white photo of a small boutique hotel, named Le Grand Hotel. Near the bottom in small type letters, Kinshasa. Turning the card over, she began to read the script that took up nearly the entire space.

Stunned, Edward sat up and yelled in horror. "Bella," he called out. "I wasn't sure how to tell you, please believe me when I say that."

Bella ignored his calls and continued reading. When she finished, she crumpled the card in her hand and turned to face Edward, her face now clearly marked with the trails of fallen tears.

"You weren't sure how to tell me? You asshole, how long have you known that you were leaving!"

Gripping at his hair, Edward began to whine. "Bella, you have no idea what you're saying!"

Walking over to him, Bella threw the postcard at his face. "You've wanted to leave for quite some time, haven't you? Tell me, coward!"

Edward closed his eyes, masking his complex feelings. "It's not like that Bella," he said through gritted teeth. "I don't know what else to do. I love you, I swear on my life. But I can't stay here anymore. I have to get out."

Bella wanted to hit Edward, gouge his eyes out till they bled. But all she could do was stand there, spineless and defeated. Her body became listless, and her face, numb. The tears now fell freely, and her lips parted without expression. She knew that there was no stopping Edward, his feelings motley and convoluted. Whatever it was that triggered him, motivated him to do the things that he did in life, never _did_ and never _would_, concern her. His mind had been made up... And it was pointless to stop him.

Bella laughed inwardly, thinking how she wanted to make Edward jealous and tell him she was the one leaving, but as the stars would have it, it was Edward that was destined to leave... And with that, she knew it was over.

In the unusual quietness, Edward looked up through his own wet eyes. "Bella, please say something."

But all she could do was shake her head and the words began to form, seeping from her tongue like poison.

"Edward... Did you ever really love me? I mean, did you ever really _love_ me? Could you really just leave, after all that we have been through, the times that we shared? I know I haven't been more than a partner to you in bed, but I can be more to you... If you just give me a chance."

Edward began to speak, but tightened his lips in response. Weakly, he responded "Bella, it's not about not loving you. I can't make you happy, if I'm not happy." His face, unexpressive.

"But that's it. I can make you happy, you just have to let me try," Bella said.

"Please Bella, this is best for both of us," Edward replied unconvincingly.

Sickened by the moment, Bella hurried to dress herself. In the flurry, she had forgotten her shoes and ran barefoot out the door. She could hear Edward calling for her, but knew his words were only out of obligation. He didn't want her to stay, nor did she want to be in his apartment any longer than she already had.

Bella decided at that moment, at that very second, he was already gone. The only thought that fueled her movement from this point forward was the thought that she, too, could escape and leave. But hadn't she already done this once before?

As she came upon her gate, she nearly knocked the concierge over. "Pardon, monsieur," she yelled, as she ran the rest of the pathway up to the front door. The concierge, unfazed by her abruptness and consistently unusual behavior, simply shook his head in disapproval.

When Bella came upon her apartment, she opened it with such force, that the whole top floor vibrated when she slammed the door. She ran immediately to her mattress, and threw down her body, burying her face in her pillow.

Soon enough, she heard her front door creak open, and close; the quiet footsteps of someone entering her small sleeping quarters, and the weight of their body, pressing down on the worn bed. Sliding in next to her, small, fragile but gentle hands began pulling the wet strands of hair away from Bella's eyes.

"Mon chéri, what has happened?" Alice whispered.

Bella shut her eyes, the anger swelling in her heart. She was frustrated and tired, and despised herself for ever falling for Edward.

"Please, Bella. It might help if you talk about it. I know we haven't had much time to spend together, but I am always here for you."

"Oh, Alice. I'm just so sick with myself. I found out that Edward is leaving, and that he's known about it for quite some time. He's going to Africa to meet with his writer friend..."

"And so he will leave."

"But it hurts so much, Alice. Why wouldn't he offer to take me with him? Why didn't I tell him all the things that I long to say? Why do I keep my feelings inside?"

Sighing, Alice thought about her questions solemnly. "Because you were raised to protect yourself. Because you have been hurt in the past, by the one person that should have protected you. And like I, you find it hard to let anybody in. I cannot tell you if Edward will return, but I can tell you, that you will survive this. You will find your _forever after_, and one day, you'll reminisce with your grandchildren, and you'll speak of your love that once was. And you'll ponder whatever became of your English writer, and the tears will still flow... But that is life, Bella. You once reminded me of this, n'avez-vous pas? We shall determine when we will love, and when we will marry. It's because of you, Bella, which I am able to slowly trust in Jasper."

Bella lay with her hands tucked beneath her head, and smiled at Alice. She was amazed at her friend and how much she had grown in such a short period of time. Was it really because of her, the silly girl that fled the countryside to be a singer in Paris?

"Alice, I'm afraid I have misled you. I am not as brave and strong as you think I am..."

"Stop right there. You are French, oui? We are resilient, and we are prideful. Do not let this English... pompous..."

Bella began to laugh, and the tears that fell freely, and heavily, ceased. She sat up, swooping her tangled hair back, and began massaging her face.

"He was just so handsome, Alice."

Alice too, sat up and pulled a pin that had been in her hair out to keep Bella's front locks off her eyes. "So you will miss his cock?" she said softly.

"Alice!" Bella said, her face flushed from embarrassment.

"Bella, I'm teasing you! Of course Edward is handsome... and intelligent... and sexy... But he is not your life, mon amour."

But Bella was not amused, and looking down, she began to squirm."There is one other thing..."

"You're pregnant!" Alice exclaimed.

"Alice, please stop. No, of course not... It's just that... Jacob is moving back to America and has invited me to come with him."

Alice looked stunned, and hurt, at the same time. "Jacob?"

"My musician friend at Moulin Rouge."

"Ah, yes. Jacob... But why? Does he have feelings for you? Bella, is that fair to him? You cannot tell me you care for this young man. You think your life will be better in America, that you'll stop thinking of Edward the minute you board the ship? Bella, don't be so naive!"

"Alice, I can't stand the thought of him leaving. I want to show him that I am not stuck here either, that I can have adventures too!" Getting off the bed, Bella began to pace in front of Alice. "I'll just go for a short period of time, see what New York has to offer. It won't be forever, Alice, I promise." Stepping forward, Bella could see Alice becoming emotional. "Oh sweet girl. I will come back, and I will write. As often as I can; I promise on my life!"

But Alice could not help it. She never really had close friends, and Bella had become like a sister to her. But this is what Bella wanted, or as Alice saw it, needed. She had suspicions that if Bella left, it would be forever, but stood anyway, hugging Bella in support. The two held their embrace, as Bella glanced around her deteriorated home, the withered wallpaper, the peeling trim paint. All signs of time, life moving forward. For Bella, she would soon learn the meaning of those words, what it meant to move forward, for life was not forgiving. But as Bella would teach life, she didn't need to be forgiven.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you for sticking with me! With kids, and summer, and work... I promise to be more timely with my chapters!


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the copyrights to the Twilight saga, only the original content of my stories and all original characters.

**Credit**: As always, I adore my editor and cheerleader, Evenflo78. Her encouraging comments, always help me understand my own writing. And for that, I encourage every writer to get a trusted reader, editor, or willing friend. And of course, I love my husband for always taking time out to read each chapter, offering his opinions and edits. They are my team.

~o~

Returning to work with the understanding her life was at a crossroad, Bella had refused to see Edward and did not so, even before her unexpected departure. Though Edward did attempt to reach out to her the following day, Bella did not answer her door, hidden under her covers, asleep to his pleas. And this she did, quite often in the day, her naps bordering a deep coma where she could escape the questions that plagued her and the answers she already knew.

One night, as she was prepping for her performance, she looked up to see Jacob standing in the doorway to her dressing room. There was oddness about him, and his hand seemed to fidget, rubbing a small item between his fingers.

"Bonsoir, Jacob?" Bella said, her voice questioning his behavior.

"Hey, Belles," Jacob replied quietly, as he pocketed the small item. He kept his gaze downward, unsure if he was intruding, and quickly took a seat on the small sofa. "I hear this may be your last night. Edward's leaving tomorrow, right?"

As if the wind came howling into the room, Bella felt a gust of emotion hit her in one fell swoop; she knew he was leaving, and where he was leaving too, but she'd had no idea _when_ and that thought seemed to bother her more than anything. She had hoped that Edward would change his mind... Closing her eyes, she immediately felt ambivalent towards Jacob but, having realized she had not told him she wanted to come with him to America, suddenly found the words hard to say. Still she thought, it was the right decision and opened her eyes taking in a deep breath.

"I didn't know he was leaving tomorrow. Then it's really done," she said in a voice so low, it was inaudible to Jacob.

Looking at him, she walked over to where he was and sat, laying her head gently on his shoulder. "I'm so incredibly sad, Jacob."

Taking his arm out from under her, he placed it around her petite body and allowed her to inch herself closer. "So you're not leaving with him?" he asked cautiously.

"No, Jacob... I'm not. He didn't ask me to."

Jacob shook his head, modestly.

"But I do want to go with you," her words unconvincing.

Jacob momentarily lit up, but his body remained rigid, worried that she was speaking out of sorrow. "You sure?"

Not speaking, Bella nodded with her face tucked into his warm, firm body. Bella didn't know why, but she wanted to remain like this, taking in Jacob's scent, hoping it would trigger other emotions. She moved her delicate hands, gently onto his chest and gripped lightly onto his shirt.

Jacob froze, unsure of where Bella's touches were leading, but allowed them regardless. He knew she was mourning, and he knew he was not the one she mourned for, but still he couldn't turn her away and secretly begged for her to kiss him.

Suddenly the room became charged, as the moment allowed for the tenderness that Jacob was bestowing on Bella to reap its rewards; Bella looked up, her eyebrow timidly lifted, her lips slightly parted... Leaning forward, Jacob closed the gap between them.

"What the hell are you doing, kid!" rang out a voice.

Stunned, Bella jumped out of Jacob's arms and stood, quickly brushing her hair back, and smoothing out her gown. When she looked over toward the source of the voice, her eyes narrowed, and her expression tightened in animosity.

"Excuse me? But what do you have to say about this? Besides, I hear from other people that you are leaving tomorrow! Don't you have packing to do, Edward?" she spat, for emphasis.

Embarrassed and frustrated simultaneously, Jacob stood as well, wiping his untouched lips. He thought to intercede, but allowed Bella her last argument with Edward. Walking over to her, he placed his hand on her shoulder and whispered that they would talk later about their trip and made a promise that he would take very good care of her. A half-smile slipped from Bella's mouth, as Jacob departed, being forced to squeeze by Edward who refused to move from the door.

"Edward, really, what are you doing here?" Bella asked, authoritatively.

"I'm here having drinks with Henri and I wanted to come and say good-bye to you. But I can see you didn't wait long to replace me?"

Bella shook her head, refusing to respond to his demeaning comment.

Sighing, Edward held his arm out, blocking the entrance. "Do you love him?" he added.

"Of course not, Edward! You know that! But I can't do this with you. I can't give you anymore of me, than I already have. You should have left after I found out. It would have been easier for me."

"I couldn't. I still had affairs I had to attend to." Edward said matter of factly.

Bella made a face, irritated that he would mention _affairs_, when he had a living, breathing affair that he had not attended to, standing right in front of him.

"And what am I?" Bella asked, tiring quickly from the conversation.

Before she would exasperate herself, she wanted to check on Henri and apologize for not being able to see him recently while he was ill and resting. As she marched forward, Edward caught her by the waist, swinging her frail frame toward him.

"Let me go! You don't deserve a kiss, Edward. Not anymore. Not this time."

Edward ignored her, pulling her close so that he could hug her. He kissed her lightly on the neck and his eyes strained to articulate the pain he felt. "I promise I'll be back, Bella."

Bella made a noise, uninterested in his broken promise. She knew he would be back, but when and where, was anyone's guess. Bella was beginning to understand Edward, the artist that he wanted to be, eager to write about society, but unwilling to be a part of it.

She tore through his arms, and hurried down the hallway, scurrying out into the dance hall until she came upon Henri's table. With tears in her eyes, she stood in front of him like a child would their father, beckoning for comfort.

Henri, deep into his drink, peered up with glazed eyes. The sickness, though diminished, gave his features a pallid appearance, almost yellowish in tint. Still, he put his glass down and pulled an empty chair, patting it with his hand.

"Oh mon amour, I know. Believe me, I know." Henri replied, sensitively.

Bella looked at the empty seat, and then over her shoulder. She didn't want to run into Edward again, or allow him to see how much he was hurting her. Instead Bella simply squatted, using Henri's leg as leverage.

"Bella!" Henri yelled, instinctively gripping at his thigh.

"Henri, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!"

"Stop, Bella. It's alright. I just overreacted," Henri murmured, through his clenched jaw. "Please, sit. Edward is off near the front talking to a few men. He's giving you distance."

Searching for his whereabouts, Bella found Edward near the entrance as Henri had mentioned. It saddened her that Edward did everything Bella commanded, never choosing to fight for her affection. _And just like that, he gives distance_, she thought.

Turning back toward Henri, Bella found the strength to confess her plans. "Henri, I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving. I'm going to New York with Jacob, and there is nothing that you can say that will stop me!"

Henri's eyes widened. "You are? And this is how you tell me? Bella, you should know me better than that. I've never chastised you for your past, or for any decisions that you've made while you have been my friend, have I?"

Softened, Bella took a long breath. "No, Henri. You haven't and I apologize for just spilling my business on you here at your table. I've just missed you terribly, and I..."

"Bella, it's alright. I won't say anything to deter you from your plans. If you feel that you need to move to New York, then I support you. But you must know, I will miss you mon cheri. You have become like a younger sister to me, and I care for you. Please don't let the actions of one foolish man, force you to run from your home. Paris is your home, is she not?"

Using her index fingers to lightly dab at the corners of her eyes, Bella began to choke up. "I'm just confused, Henri. I just need to leave for awhile. Everything around me reminds me of him. I just can't stand it anymore. The corner where we first fought, Alice's building, Moulin Rouge... Everything Henri... Memories are everywhere."

Henri poured himself another shot, and furrowed his brow before sipping it. "Paris is like that. It's full of emotion, of mystery, of romance." He put his glass down, and pushed his glasses up on the ridge of his nose. "She lures dreamers from all over, causing them to fall hopelessly in love... But then it is up to them to see it through. But, I tell you Bella. Paris never turns her back on you. Never! Remember that, when you leave for New York. She will be waiting for you, and missing you the moment you board your ship. And most importantly, she will never forget you. Even if others do, she does not."

Henri peered around the room, staring tenderly at the patrons. He could not even imagine leaving Paris, and he'd like to think, Paris would never want him to leave.

Saddened by his words, Bella slumped in her chair. The time for her to perform was nearing, but she felt drained from the brief interlude with Henri. Though she fought her body from reacting, she could not help herself and turned to catch another glimpse of Edward. When she looked over to the entrance, he was no longer there and Bella panicked.

"Henri, where is he? He's not standing there anymore. Did you see where he wandered off too?"

With sadness in his eyes, Henri replied softly. "Bella, while we were talking, Edward looked over in our direction and nodded. He's gone, my love. He's gone." Henri placed his hand over hers and squeezed it not quite understanding what else he could offer at this moment.

Bella began to feel faint, but held her composure. She tried desperately to stand, but her legs were unresponsive. Secretly, she promised her body a moment to itself, but for now the show must go on... And so Bella worked up the strength and stood, proving to herself she could move on, and as Henri said, would not let the actions of one foolish man dictate her decisions. But as she walked back to her dressing room, she glanced over toward the bandstand, catching Jacob's watchful eyes. Yet, she wondered, had she already?


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the copyrights to the Twilight saga, only the original content of my stories and all original characters.

**Credit**: As always, I adore my editor and cheerleader, Evenflo78. Her encouraging comments, always help me understand my own writing. And for that, I encourage every writer to get a trusted reader, editor, or willing friend. And of course, I love my husband for always taking time out to read each chapter, offering his opinions and edits. They are my team.

* * *

"Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful

And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two.

I'm one of your talking wounded.

I'm a hostage. I'm marooned.

But I'm in Paris with you.

Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled

And resentful at the mess I've been through.

I admit I'm on the rebound

And I don't care where are we bound.

I'm in Paris with you..."

In Paris With You-James Felton

**~o~**

One day began to bleed into the next, and was full of self loathing. Bella rose each mid-afternoon, and would commence to drink away her sorrows. Once in a stupor, she would head down stairs to check on Henri while Marie tended to daily chores. Bella began to admire Marie, and often wished that she had the strength Miss Marie had. Five and half months pregnant, and caring for an ill lover, Bella knew her problems were nothing compared to the stress Marie was burdened with. Soon, she would not be in a position to work, and would depend solely on Henri's income. Tending to his business affairs on top of household errands, Marie had happily stepped into the shoes of a doting wife, even if the two had not married yet.

When Marie would return, she would begin cooking feverishly in the small kitchenette, insisting that Bella eat. Marie was not blind to Bella's secret binging but dared not speak of it. If it was what Bella needed to cope, then she simply prayed that Bella's sorrow would soon subside. But the minute she questioned Bella about her impending trip to New York, the sorrow would return, leaving Bella agitated and shaky. And so Marie soon learned to keep quiet, assuming the day would come, when Bella would finally allow them to bid their adieus.

**~o~**

"Bella wake up, I have breakfast!" Alice said cheerfully.

"Go away, Alice. I worked very late last night." Bella replied groggily.

"And how old do you think you are? 80? You can get up, just the same. Now wake up and open this door or I will ask the concierge to open it for me. And you know he would just love to see you in your nightgown, sleeping soundly in your bed. I'm sure it will fuel many future dreams..."

"Holy Mother of Jesus," Bella yelled while opening the door, "Don't speak so loud in the hallway, I'm sure he could hear you just the same. Now, why of all mornings do I need to eat your pastries today?"

"It's not pastries, it's bread. Now, pardonnez-moi!" Alice replied teasingly.

Pushing through Bella, she placed her basket on the table, staring blankly at the empty bottles littering the shelves above it.

"And what is all this? Are you practicing for something?" Alice said, while waving her hand at the bottles.

"No, I just can't sleep." Bella answered sheepishly, her fingers rubbing at her swollen eyes.

"Bullshit, Bella. Marie tells me you are drinking after you wake up. You are not using drinking as a method to cope. You are waking up and coming to work with me."

"Alice, do I look like a child that needs to be cared for? I just cannot deal with life at this moment, alright? I'm leaving... And that terrifies me... It is the only thing that keeps me sane."

"Being drunk keeps you sane? How is that even logical? Are you sure you need to leave? I mean, is it healthy for you to leave in your state?"

"My state? Alice, I am not fucking crazy!" And instantly, Bella regretted her words. Sighing while closing her eyes, Bella tightened her lips in frustration. "I'm sorry, Alice. That came out wrong. I understand what you are trying to say. But, I've been talking a lot to Jacob at work and I think this will be a good thing for now."

Eyeing Bella, Alice sat at the table silently.

"Please, Alice. This is hard for me."

"It doesn't have to be, because you do not have to leave. What is wrong with your life here in Paris? You have me, Jasper, Marie and Henri and many friends at the Moulin Rouge. We all care for you Bella, it's not like we are virgins to love. You can speak to me, Bella. I'm here for you."

"Alice, it's more than that. I'm just..."

"You're just what? I'm trying to understand your reasoning, Bella. Please help me. You're what?"

"I just need to leave. And the sooner the better. Jacob was able to get two tickets to leave by the end of the week, and..."

"And you're just going to leave? Bella, do you know how incredibly selfish you are? It's been over a month, almost two months since Edward left! And then suddenly, you pick a day, just like that... to move? Have you told the concierge, have you even let Henri and Marie know?"

"No, I can't. I'm too afraid to tell them. It will hurt Henri terribly and I really do not want to upset him while he's ill."

"That is not fair at all, Bella. If you are not coming with me to the shop, then please eat something and go down and tell Henri you are leaving. After all the times that he has been there for you... It is the least you could do."

"Fine! I'll tell him today. But go, I don't want to be at your shop, listening to pompous people talk about their wonderful lives..."

"Enough, Bella! That's enough! When you're ready to come see me, please do. But I'm tired of your excuses." And with those parting words, Alice stood abruptly and walked out of the apartment.

Bella sat dumbfounded, and began to pick at a loaf of freshly baked French bread. Placing it near her nose, the aroma brought back memories of her mother walking her to a local bread shop where Bella would eat mounds of bread for breakfast, while her mother sat and sipped coffee, smoking cigarette after cigarette.

Bella then reached for the loaf, biting in to it while moaning. She missed those days when her mother was not concerned about anything in the world, except for two things: her beautiful, little daughter and a fresh cup of morning coffee. Bella began to softly cry while she sat alone eating her morning breakfast.

When she was through, she remembered Alice's words and decided it was best that she visit Henri. Having made most of her arrangements with Jacob, there was little left for her to do but pack the few belongings she possessed. Splashing cold water on her face, she looked back at her reflection in the small aged mirror hanging near her bed. Her face appeared older, emotionless. For a brief moment, Edward crossed her mind and she wondered what he was doing at that very second... But the feeling passed and Bella sighed heavily, exiting her apartment to see Henri.

"Bella! It's early... I mean, I'm just not used to you stopping by this early in the morning. Is everything alright?" Marie asked inquisitively, while searching Bella for hints of distress.

"I'm sorry, Marie. Would you like me to leave? I can return later..."

"No, silly. Our home is your home, please come in. Besides, it will give me a chance to rest outside in the morning sun. Do you mind sitting with Henri?"

"Of course not, Marie." And Bella watched her gather a small basket with a shovel inside and a cup of tea, rushing eagerly past her.

Looking toward the small mattress, she noticed Henri was sitting up, fully awake. "Bonjour, Henri. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Like a caterpillar hibernating. I'm hoping one day I will be able to break through my confines and fly away. What do you think? How do I look?" Henri replied comically, though his features told otherwise.

Bella walked over to her good friend and placed a light kiss upon his forehead. "You look handsome as ever. Now, lay back and rest. I have things that I want to tell you and I don't want you to be upset."

Sighing, Henri fluffed his pillow. "I am fine sitting up, but I would like you to sit here as well. There are things that I wish to discuss with you as well, mon amour."

Bella found a small stool and propped it as close to Henri's bed as possible. The two stared at each other, each one begging the other to begin.

"Well..." Henri began, "I just want to say that I will miss you and I think that you are making a grave mistake by leaving."

"Fair enough, I will miss you too Henri. But I will not be gone for long. Just till I feel I can return without the memory of Edward hurting me. I promise I will come back. This is my home."

Henri smiled. "Very well, but I have to say that I am worried if you leave. It is true that you and I have been good friends, but you are like the sister that I was never blessed with. Bella... I would like you to be our child's God Mother."

Bella was taken aback by Henri's request, but without hesitation, quickly shook her head, "Oh Henri, I would love to!" Leaning over, Bella hugged him, thanking him again for his kindness and when she had thought the moment was right, explained to Henri that she was able to get a boarding pass to leave for New York by the end of the week.

"It is very short notice, but Jacob was able to get a good deal on two vacant suites that had become available." Bella rationalized.

"I see. So you really are leaving." Sitting up, Henri faced Bella and weakly smiled. "I really wish you wouldn't. This sick, old man cannot convince you to stay?"

Laughing softly, Bella shook her head. "I'm afraid not this time." Rising, Bella put her hands on her hips and gave Henri an admonishing look. "And you are not old!"

"But my bones feel brittle, worn, tired of this heavy body that it has been burdened with." Henri slid off the mattress and walked over to a small painting hidden behind a soiled canvas. "I want you to have this picture. It is a small portrait of a child." Henri gazed down at the sketch. "I dream of her, you know. She whispers to me in the middle of the night." Looking up through wet eyes. he continued, "I fear that she is trying to tell me something but I cannot understand her. I call to her... But nothing. She leaves me and does not come back until the next night."

In a moment of clarity, Bella stood up and walked over to Henri, taking the painting out of his hands. "I will take good care of this piece, as I will the other that you have made for me." Placing a hand on his shoulders, Bella spoke with conviction, "And this I promise you until my dying breath. I will be there for her or him... If anything were to happen to you or Marie. You have my solemn promise."

Henri grabbed Bella's hand, clenching it tightly while allowing the tears to spill. "Thank you, Bella. That is all I ask." And as the two stood silently, Bella thought she heard the faint whisper of a child crying.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the copyrights to the Twilight saga, only the original content of my stories and all original characters.

**Credit**: As always, I **adore** my editor and cheerleader, Evenflo78. Her encouraging comments, always help me understand my own writing. And for that, I encourage every writer to get a trusted reader, editor, or willing friend. And of course, I love my husband for always taking time out to read each chapter, offering his opinions and edits. They are my team.

* * *

"Beneath the vapor's floating scarves, the Seine trembles, mysterious, like a magic mirror, and, shortly, you shall see what you shall see!" —Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac

The day had come for the White Star vessel to make voyage, and among its soon to be passengers hung fear, anticipation, hopefulness, and emotional instability. From people visiting America for the first time, to those who would soon walk a new path; their gateway a promenade to a vessel that would sail a torrential ocean between a past and future. Bella would soon be one of them.

Since the remaining days leading up to her departure were filled with many goodbyes, she could not handle the roller coaster of grief that filled her each time someone begged her to stay, or questioned her reasoning for leaving. For Bella, she did her best to avoid the obvious, but truth be told, she missed Edward terribly.

Having turned in her keys to her small apartment that she had come to love, she spent her final nights at Moulin Rouge at the request of Mr. Oller who showered her with small trinkets of adoration; a pen and journal to document her travels and a small object called a Dubroni camera to capture images.

Bella wondered if her only suitcase was large enough for her new items, but Mr. Oller quickly remedied her concerns by giving her his trusted, larger suitcase which was a soft, black leather case with fabric lining and leather straps. She did not know how she could ever repay his generosity... Including the job that she had come to have a love/hate relationship with.

Stretching her tired, aching body she looked back at the worn sofa she had fallen asleep on and smiled at it fondly. Each night, she would lay exhausted upon its cushions and each night it would welcome her with open arms.

Having already packed, Bella lifted her two cases and painting and began to walk toward the back exit door, pushing through the morning light that felt very harsh for its time of day. Squinting, she walked for miles with new eyes, taking in the cool breath of the dawn. Bella felt conflicted as she took in her surroundings but understood the long, burdened walk was necessary to clear her head. Before she could flag down a coach to take her to the train station, something caught her interest.

Off in the distance lay a patch of grass near a small pond, where wild swans were being fed by an elderly couple. Sensing that they were being watched, the old woman slowly looked over her shoulder and in a magical moment, Bella thought she saw her own auburn eyes peering back and stopped abruptly in confusion. The old woman smiled as she turned back around and reached for the hand of her companion; a tall, handsome older gentleman, who took her frail hand and kissed it gently. Bella shook her head, unsure of what just happened but took it as her nerves playing cruel tricks on her.

As she flagged a carriage down, she glanced back once again at the strange, older couple. This time the elder gentleman was staring in her direction. Bella dropped her cases, covering her mouth in shock.

"Excuse madame, are you alright? May I get these for you?" the driver asked.

Bella started to feel sick and quickly nodded. As she sat in the cart that began to move away, she tried to look back again toward the pond, whispering to herself that it could not be...

"So where are you headed to madame?" asked the driver.

"To the train station. I will be meeting someone there and we will be catching a ferry to England. I'm leaving for America." Bella spoke indifferently as she turned back around.

The driver nodded in understanding but did not seem impressed with her reply, and urged the horse forward without further conversation. Bella sighed anxiously and continued to take in the scenery. For the first time, in a long time, she marveled at the city. Undeniably, Paris was alive and mourning her departure by putting its best face forward; wind softly billowing withered leaves of amber and sage. Bella tried to calm herself by taking in a long deep breath that seemed to sear through the inner linings of her lungs. She gripped at her chest in response and held it there until the driver slowed the carriage.

~o~

As Henri woke, for the first time in a long time, there was no pain consuming his legs. In addition, he found himself alert and eager to see his friend off. Deciding to surprise Bella at the train station, Henri slid off the mattress with vigor. Alone in the dark apartment, he wondered where his beautiful fiancée was. Noticing the basket that Marie would use to visit the local market missing, he knew she had snuck out earlier as she always did to have the morning's breakfast ready for him.

With ease, he walked over to his small writing table and pulled out a piece of parchment.

_My love, please do not fret over me this morning. I have gone to see Bella off and will have tea and bread on my way home. I love you. Henri_

Henri reached for his cane and strolled out the front door of his apartment, with the day's first rays kissing him in response. "And good day to you, Paris," Henri teased, as he began to descend to the manor's rod iron gates.

When he arrived at the train station, there was a charged atmosphere of nervous energy all around him. Henri could not understand why everyone was in such a hurry but attributed it to the fact, that he himself, was too slow. A turtle, his mother would say, to which the young Henri would respond happily that he much rather be a turtle because turtle's could swim swiftly, where as tortoises crawled lazily. A testament to the sharp wit and intelligence that Henri exuded, which never seemed to find favor to the mother that could not see beyond his stunted legs. To him, she was a nuisance.

Henri sighed as he propped near a small plantane tree and searched each young woman's face, for his dear friend Bella. Realizing he had no departing gift, he scowled at his ungentleman-like manners but knew Bella would understand. As he stood scanning the area, he noticed a little girl staring at him while holding her mother's hand. He found this curious because most children were fearful of his deformities, often pointing and laughing or simply turning away. Henri waived politely, and the little girl waived back, pulling at her mother's arm as she pointed in his direction. The mother ignored the child. Henri felt terrible but smiled, shrugging his shoulders at the young girl who refused to look away.

Blinded by her innocence, Henri did not notice Jacob approach. Though they were several feet apart, Jacob did not speak to Henri, irritated by his pocketwatch. Henri finally pulled his gazed from the little girl and began to watch Jacob with great fascination. Henri remembered that he never did like the musician but there was no point in holding that grudge any longer. As Henri went to call out to Jacob, Bella walked up to him at that very moment. He watched momentarily as the two exchanged hugs and noticed Bella's behavior appeared cold and unfriendly. He wondered if she truly was happy with her decision to leave.

Again, he was about to call out to the couple when a young woman sitting on a nearby bench lifted her head that was previously buried in her hands. The woman was swollen from misery and had eyes black as coals. Henri was taken back at the sight of this woman's pain, but gripped at his chest when he realized who it was.

Marie then stood and walked briskly toward the couple, eyes full of tears, falling into Bella's arms.

"Dear God, please let the baby be all right," Henri yelled as he raced toward his lover's side. Reaching out to pull her from Bella's embrace, his hands became mist and tore through her limbs like passing fog. Henri screamed as he fell back onto his backside, unsure of what horrors he was experiencing. He watched in anguish as Marie's puffed lips tried to speak.

"He's dead," Marie cried, as her hand covered her mouth. Fighting back her own tears, Bella swallowed her sorrow, and quickly pulled Marie back into her arms to ease her agony. Bella was afraid that Marie would lose the baby if she worked herself up too much.

"No... It cannot be... I," Henri said to himself. But as clarity began to wash over him, he realized he could not remember certain things, such as how he arrived at the station. He remembered walking toward the gate and then his mind went blank... A cold chill ate at his bones, as he looked down at his weathered body, a body that did not feel pain anymore. A body that was no more. "Oh dear God. I know that we have not spoken much since I became of age, but I cannot do this. Please God, hear my pleas. Before Marie, I would have welcomed death with open arms, begged Azrael to take me before I could ever love. But... God. Not, now. I do love. I feel. I cannot depart now, please give me more time." Henri began to say as his chest heaved up and down from despair. Yet, no one responded. There was only dead silence.

Looking up at Marie, Henri could see she was beginning to wipe the tears from her eyes as Bella spoke softly into her ear. Marie was doing her best to control her emotions as she lightly stroked her belly. Reduced to a soft weep, Marie restrained the sorrow that was threatening to overtake her. Henri felt powerless as he watched her. But as he sat there dumbfounded and heartbroken for being born weak and feeble, he became acutely aware of Bella's emotions and intentions.

Then instinctively Henri mouthed the words as Bella said them authoritatively, "And this I promise you until my dying breath. I will be there for her or him... If anything were to happen to you or Marie. You have my solemn promise." Bella straightened her posture, "Those were my last words to him, Marie, and I am not leaving. Now please, try to remain calm. You must think of the baby now. You are not alone; we _will _get through this together."

Jacob looked over at Bella and pursed his lips in understanding. The moment was awkward and he felt guilty for feeling angry. But he did not know what he was actually angry about. "I suppose I should go," he said, his eyes looking down. Jacob had no choice but to remove himself from the situation, afraid that he might say something that would upset Marie.

Bella sighed heavily as she let go of Marie. Looking at the young musician, she walked up to him and leaned in while placing a tender kiss on Jacob's lips. The kiss was long and impassioned but not as the two would hope. As she pulled away, she said sincerely, "You don't love me and I do not love you. This is not meant to be, Jacob. You see it now, do you not?"

Jacob looked hurt but did not bother to respond. He knew as well as she did, they were both people who fell into unusual circumstances. People who fled, rather than face the problems they were dealt with. Jacob would have to return to his family and the woman that he left behind, and Bella would have to sort out her life and help raise the child of her deceased beloved friend. Destiny had spoken harshly and there would be no deviation. Not for these two.

Henri watched Bella as she redirected her attention to Marie, pulling at her arm gently into a side embrace. Jacob cleared his throat as he reached down and grabbed his belongings, tipping his head to the women. He never did offer his condolences to Marie, and simply turned around to distance himself from the women. Marie felt awful for her untimely appearance but could not worry about Jacob, nor his lack of understanding. She bent down and grabbed the portrait that was leaning on Bella's suitcase while Bella reached for the rest of her belongings. No further words were exchanged, and Marie seemed to be at peace momentarily, knowing that she would not be alone in this journey. The two women walked off in silence.

Henri felt satisfied that Bella would make good on her promise. He knew that his mother would never have anything to do with the child since Marie came from a working class family, but Bella would be there to help and that thought seem to settle his fears. Though he wished with all his heart, he could have only seen his child's face. If only just once.

In that moment a loud noise cut through the air, and the sounds of a horn wailing while the immense rumblings of steel wheels on steel tracks, caught Henri's attention. A train was coming yet not a soul around him noticed its arrival, for this was a special train, meant only for those who were ready to move on.

Free of the burdened life that he was born with and the immense suffering he endured each day, Henri walked toward the platform to board the train that he knew had come for him. As he climbed aboard, he turned to look back upon the living world in which he came, but there was no one around. He could not see any people. Just when he began to feel distressed an overwhelming sensation of love devoured him, as if someone was trying to calm his entire being, telling him that he was now, truly home. Looking into the train, he saw many different types of people sitting in various seats. An old woman gazing fondly at a photo. A young man wearing a soldier's uniform. Back at the rear compartment of the train, he caught a glimpse of a beautiful little girl and recognized her immediately. It was the little girl who noticed him in the courtyard, the only one who could see him. He smiled as he waived at her, thinking the train had come for her too. Without hesitation, he walked back toward the little girl and decided to sit with her. "Tu vas me manquer, I will miss you," he said as his soul finally let go.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the copyrights to the Twilight saga, only the original content of my stories and all original characters.

**Credit**: As always, I **adore** my editor and cheerleader, Evenflo78. Her encouraging comments, always help me understand my own writing. And for that, I encourage every writer to get a trusted reader, editor, or willing friend. And of course, I love my husband for always taking time out to read each chapter, offering his opinions and edits. They are my team.

* * *

The wake for Henri had come and gone, and there was something immensely sad about that in Bella's mind. Though she mourned the passing of her dear friend, she had hoped by miracle that Edward would appear at Henri's childhood home, the location of the services.

But he did not, and Bella came to the realization that even in Henri's death, Edward remained elusive.

It had been nearly a month since the tragic day, and Marie was doing her best to cope with the aftermath of it all. Bella returned to the manor, but took residence with Marie temporarily until she could find another apartment. She was easily accepted back at Moulin Rouge and felt somewhat lifted, by the strangeness of it all. The club felt light and airy without Edward... Henri... And Jacob. But there was something liberating in that sense, and Bella took it as a sign that things would be different for her this time around. She found strength in the emptiness.

On the surface, you could assume that everything was normal, almost as if life had not skipped a beat. But, there held the fallacy of it all.

~o~

One day while Bella was pruning the garden in the midst of the late afternoon sun, Alice came to greet her with a package in hand.

"This arrived for you. It's unmarked, but was delivered to your old address. The elderly woman that lives there now was kind enough to ask me if I knew the recipient. Will you open it now?" Alice asked, inquisitively.

Bella looked up, wiping the light sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. "I don't know. Who is it from?" Standing, Bella stared at the package from a distance, as if she could peer through the brown paper.

"You can open it, if you want. My hands are filthy," Bella said.

Alice, child-like, sat down on the pavement and tore into the paper as if it were a present at Christmas. Its contents was merely a journa,l but Alice immediately recognized its worn leather.

"I probably should not read something so personal. I'm sure this journal was meant for your eyes only." And with that, Alice stood up walking the benign binder over to Bella.

"A journal, that is odd," she quipped, but as she placed her hands upon its body, she too knew the sender.

"Edward," Bella whispered. Looking to Alice for consolation, Bella did not know if she wanted to invest anything further in what he had to say. Taking in a deep breath, Bella walked off silently and returned back to the apartment.

Marie was sitting upon the mattress, rubbing the small of her lower back. She had noticed that Bella's demeanor was ominous and somber, but knew better than to force the purge of emotions that were not ready to be released. And so she sat quietly watching Bella sit upon a small stool staring aimlessly at the leather book.

Humorously, Marie began to imagine the contents of the journal, its pages moving to and fro, an ocean of adventure penned for Bella's enjoyment. Or better yet, Marie pictured the author writing from a cave where he was being held captive by Spanish pirates.

Marie smiled as she watched Bella uneasily open the book. "Dear God, Bella. Was is it? I'm dying to know who the journal is from. Is it Edward's?"

Startled, Bella looked up at Marie. Nodding, she looked back down and again furrowed her eyebrows in concentration.

"I just don't know if I care enough to read it," Bella replied.

Marie did not respond but left the mattress, grabbing her purse and shawl for cover. Turning in Bella's direction, Marie thought it was finally best to comment on the matter.

"I know you are angry with him... Blaming him for not attending Henri's funeral. But read the journal, Bella. Extend forgiveness because it would have been what Henri would have wanted."

Marie then slowly walked out the front door, leaving Bella to ponder her comments. Sighing oppressively, Bella sat at Henri's writing desk and began to read. The first page that had been initially ripped out was unusually inserted back in. It was a letter.

_ My Dearest Bella,_

_Words cannot express how sorry I am to hear of Henri's death. But even more sorry that I was not able to pay my respects. You must know this. _

_However, this letter comes to you in my own time of distress. You see, when I left Paris, I had no sooner arrived in Spain when word had reached me regarding the condition of my mother. I had no choice but to turn around and return to England, to help my father care for her. _

_Unfortunately, she passed away and my father was left in a state of shock. He's slowing recovering but still very depressed and out of sorts. I've been dealing with the aftermath and all the arrangements. _

_It's been surreal, my days in my bedroom. I felt as if this forced solitude would suffer me and I would go mad from my entrapment. But strangely, I've poured my emotions into this journal and was able to finish my novel. Ironic, isn't it? I spent my nights pissing on words that would never come, and thought that if I sent myself somewhere far and exotic, the creativity would bleed from me. Yet, returning home, the place I left so many years ago, was the water to my thirsty soul. And so I give you my only copy of my heart. Please take your time and read it. I would most like to hear your thoughts on my work. _

_ Yours always, _

_ Edward_

Bella felt conflicted and confused; a part of her wanted to forgive him and nurture him in his time of need. And yet, another part of her wanted to remain guarded and protect the heart that he so brutally abandoned. Regardless, Bella was thrilled at the prospect of feeling something tangible... something real. And so she began.

~o~

What started as a morning look-over, melded into four days of devotion.

Marie would cook and send over a plate, while Bella ate, eyes glued to the book in her cramped hands. Even Alice became worried and checked in often on Bella, stressed by the content of the story.

But as Bella turned the final page, tears began to form, rolling softly down her face. The novel was about her. He had always loved her, even before he knew her.

As the rain poured down vehemently, beating against the paned glass abusively, a stern knock rattle the front door.

Preparing for sleep, the two women became terrified by the late night visitor.

"Who can it be at this hour, Bella? Nothing good comes after midnight. Should we ignore it?" Marie spoke quietly.

Bella, journal still in hand, stared in the direction of the door.

Yet again came the loud thumbs, this time more eager and aggressively demanding.

Bella's lips parted in apprehension.

Placing the book upon the desk, she lit a candle and took the sconce with her toward the door.

"Bella, don't be silly," Marie quipped.

Bella turned, concerned but curious. She unlocked the door and opened it, forcing the candle into the darkness.

Yet the obscurity from the storm clouded the dark figure standing before her. Bella timidly pushed the candle even further out to illuminate the stranger.

Darkness ensued as the candle dropped to the ground, extinguishing upon impact. In the abyss, the shadow of a man bent forward and two lips met with a renewed fervor of passion, one that had never diminished. Their kiss... a simple promise of nothing more than the present.

**The End**

* * *

**Author's Notes: I want to thank my readers who have taken the time to follow this story. It is much appreciated. But I especially want to thank my beta Evenflo78, who has worked with me on my stories for about two years. She is the absolute best! **


End file.
